


these fading scars

by englandziam



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: (He comes back to life so don't worry), Angst, Blood Drinking, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, Temporary Character Death, Vampire!AU so blood, but nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 69,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7537750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englandziam/pseuds/englandziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There is sunlight glittering over his skin and over the sheets, flickers of various shapes painting a kaleidoscope of bright colours over the contrast of tanned skin. He can’t stop staring, unable to move his eyes from the cut of Zayn’s jaw, the freckle displaced in the hazel of his eye. </i><br/><br/><i>Nimble fingers as they slip beneath the duvet, the intriguing tattoos painted along his arms.<i></i></i><br/><br/><i>Liam is convinced he’s never seen anyone so beautiful, even in his two hundred and twelve years of existence. <i></i></i><br/><br/>Or a Vampire!AU in which Liam falls in love with a human.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! As a keen Vampire Diaries enthusiast I decided to give it a go at writing a Vampire!AU. The majority of vampire-related bits & bobs are those that I've borrowed (stolen) from TVD, so I'm going to explain several things here in case there's any confusion or something that you want clearing up while you're reading:
> 
> •Compulsion/Compelling -- mind control  
> •Vervain -- a type of plant/herb that is poisonous to vampires & stops a human from being compelled  
> •Another quick note - to turn into a vampire a human has to have vampire blood in their system & then die (Happy, I know!)  
>   
> I'm super nervous about posting this - partly because there are so many incredible vampire AUs already out there, partly because this is the longest thing I've ever written so I'm a bit scared, haha.
> 
> Special thanks to those of you who read through my fic before I posted it, and to those who made wonderful changes/improvements (Thalia, Kiki, Avery). Also to the rest of the GC I'm part of: thank you for putting up with my constant moaning, whining, questions - and for your advice, reassurance & help. I love you all. Finally to @so-very-asleep who helped me out (hugely) with the artwork on tumblr.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, thank you for clicking on the link to get this far. ❤️

Flickers of light pour through the window, seeping beneath the blind and scattering a constellation of glittery shapes across the floor. The sky is a soft rose outside, painting the room in a gentle pink with a cold breeze shifting through the open window.

Liam’s eyes flutter open and he stretches out on the mattress, a smile sliding over his lips at the cotton stroking over his skin and the soft silk running underneath his fingertips. He can hear footsteps walking along the pavement outside, the leaves brushing against each other in the wind, a drumroll in an imitation of a heartbeat.

There’s a burning deep in his throat and an uncomfortable scratching along his tongue, his muscles aching as he pushes out of bed and swiftly pulls on a pair of sweats.

He wanders down the hallway, ignoring the stronger ache as somebody runs past the building and a scent is dragged through the open window, tugging at the sweltering heat in his throat. He can hear the girl’s wrecked breath, the panting passing through her lips accompanying the quickened pace of her heart.

He listens out to see if anyone’s awake, a content smile smoothing over his lips at the scent of bacon cooking downstairs. He can hear the sizzling of the pan two stories below, the padding of footsteps and smooth breathing identifying the person as Harry.

“Morning,” he mumbles as he walks through into the kitchen, glancing over at Harry who is standing at the stove, a wooden spoon in hand. His hair is wet, a messy fringe flopped chaotically over his forehead with strands fraying over his eyelashes, and Liam can smell the peppermint body wash over his skin from across the room. There’s a fluorescent pink apron tied around his waist over the chiffon shirt unbuttoned down to his stomach, black skinnies unnecessarily tight.

He looks silly, bright apron and all, but Liam can’t help engulfing him in a hug and nestling his face into Harry’s neck.

He smothers a grin over Harry’s skin at the rumble of a laugh shaking his shoulders, nuzzling a kiss to the top of his spine before treading over to the fridge and reaching for a blood bag.

The liquid sloshes against the sides, the burn in Liam’s throat achingly strong as he unscrews the cap and brings the plastic to his lips. The blood runs over his tongue, soothing every nerve in his body and settling the discomfort clinging to every breath.

He watches the veins pressing under his eyes from the reflection in the window, his eyes altering from an opaque black to a coffee-coloured amber. The tightness in his chest fades, everything a little louder than it was before. The ticking of the clock upstairs, a rustle of wind through the grass outside.

“Are the others up?” Liam asks, settling into the window seat.

It’s his favourite part of the house; the whole of the far wall a pane of glass overlooking the patio and stretch of grass. The garden is miles long and Liam can hardly see the forest at the back, despite his powerful eyesight and the fact that he could be there in approximately four seconds.

“Nialler’s asleep,” Harry says, his words dragging out like warm honey. “Lou went out about an hour ago.”

A frown creases Liam’s brow, his tongue running over his bottom lip to savour the taste of the blood.

“S’ that a good idea?” He wonders aloud, watching Harry’s dark eyes shift to his.

He sighs, chewing over his lip while shovelling bacon onto two plates and bringing them over to the table.

“We can’t keep him hostage in his own home,” Harry says softly, sliding a fork along the polished wood towards Liam. “He’s more sensible than you give him credit for.”

Liam throws him a pointed look, drumming his fingertips against the window.

“Last week he came home with a decapitated body.”

Harry sighs again, scratching at the back of his neck with an uneasy expression settled over his face.

“He’s trying,” he mumbles, averting Liam’s eyes. “He’s much better than he used to be.”

Liam hums half-heartedly, prodding at the food on his plate with his fork.

There’s a gentle thud upstairs and half a second later Niall is in the kitchen, a grin wide over his lips as he shovels eggs onto a plate and settles himself into Harry’s lap. His hair is sticking up messily in all directions, eyes a deep sapphire and cheeks dusted a flushed red.

“S’ good, Haz,” he mutters half-way through a mouthful, sighing contently as Harry yanks a hand through his dishevelled hair.

Liam is distracted by the sunlight creating shapes against the window pane and the raindrops falling over the glass, the shift of Niall’s fingertips over Harry’s skin and the low murmur of the telly in the other room.

He tunes back into the conversation as Niall and Harry squabble over what film to watch later, a scowl on Harry’s lips at ‘ _we are not watching Love Actually again because,_ Harold _, I have watched it far too many times in my one hundred and twenty seven years’_ and a fingerprint-shaped bruise pressed into Niall’s neck that fades after thirty seconds.

Liam can’t remember when their friendship developed into something a little more, but he can’t help watching fondly at the soft frown wrestling Niall’s expression and the affectionate smile Harry buries into his neck.

“Did y’ have fun last night?” Liam asks quietly, feeling relief sweep through him as he sips more of the blood and watches Niall’s eyes subtly darken.

He nods, chewing on another mouthful before biting over his lip.

“’Went t’ a few clubs and fed,” he says, fiddling with the vibrant strings of Harry’s apron. “Tommo was on his best behaviour.”

Liam doesn’t miss the way Harry wrinkles his nose beneath the little smile he nudges over Niall’s shoulder, knowing that he’d prefer them to all drink from blood bags instead of from humans.

Niall notices too, because he subconsciously shifts closer to Harry and drags his fingers through heavy curls.

“I compelled her so she didn’t even feel it,” he explains softly, his lips over Harry’s jaw.

Harry hums something under his breath and curls into Niall’s body, sighing into his neck.

“M’ going to shower,” Liam says with a smile, dipping down to place a kiss into Harry’s hair on the way past. “Thanks for brekky, babe.”

He sees the happy smile take over Harry’s face as he walks through the kitchen and pretends not to hear Niall kissing him once he reaches the stairs.

A content sigh slips past his lips when he’s under the shower head, the water spilling over him hot and rapid against his skin. He blinks away the droplets clinging to his eyelashes and focuses on the soft patter of the water hitting the tiles, letting the gentle sound consume him and fade out every other noise in the house.

 

|+|

 

There’s something calming about walking through town in the late morning, when the sky is still a glowing amber and the sun is tucked away by feathery clouds that are dotted about aimlessly on a coral canvas. There is always the same busy chaos; consistent chatter and a tsunami of people rushing from one market stall to another.

Liam takes his time, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he breathes in the homely smell of freshly baked bread, and the warm cinnamon from the coffee shop round the corner.

It’s his favourite part of being a vampire. Alongside having the ability to heal people with his blood; Liam loves capturing the beauty of the world. His heightened senses intensify every touch, scent, sound – his eyes observing every freckle over tanned skin from metres away, every taste lingering over his tongue.

There’s a constant tug at his throat, a desire to feed running through his veins at the hundreds of people surrounding him, but he busies himself by acknowledging the rows of houses with brightly coloured doors, the leaves scattered across the pavement and the bristled sound they make as people trample over them.

The mouth-watering scent of coffee drags him to his favourite café, the same one he’s been going to for years. Twinkly lights are wrapped around the two small bay trees outside the door, a _Welcome_ mat pressed beneath his heels the moment he walks in.

He hears Louis before he sees him, rolling his eyes as he shuffles through the queue to the front.

“Be a gem and let me in front of you, love,” Liam hears him say, pupils dilating. Confusion spreads across the girl’s face as Louis compels her, and she takes a step back while gesturing for Louis to go ahead.

Liam can’t stand the smug grin immediately shifting over Louis’ lips and paces to the counter, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and dragging him backwards.

“What the fuck are you doing, Louis?” He hisses, eyes flickering to the staff behind the counter as he apologises for the sudden volume of noise.

“Getting coffee, sweetheart,” Louis says, shrugging off the tight grip Liam has on him.

He considers hauling Louis out of the café by his hair, but –

“What can I get you?”

They both look up and Liam’s thoughts slip away almost immediately.

He’s staring into caramel eyes, a smear of laughter lines pressed into dark, smooth skin. Liam is one hundred percent certain he’s never seen eyelashes so long or a smile so bright. The boy’s lips are a pale pink, a wonderful undertone up against the dark stubble placed perfectly along his jaw. His hair is pushed up from his forehead, styled into a flawless quiff with a misplaced strand falling over his temple.

He’s wearing the staff uniform, all black with a silver name tag reading _‘Zayn’_ , but there’s a tiny stud in his nose and several more lined along his earlobe.

Louis flickers an obnoxious smirk towards Liam and steps forward, leaning over the counter with his elbows pressed over the wood.

“I’ll have an Americano, love,” he says brightly, drumming his fingertips over the surface. “Make that a large and to go.”

The boy nods, tapping over the screen. Liam can’t look away, eyes wandering over his flawless skin and the careful smile painted to his lips.

“What about you?” He asks, his eyes shifting to Liam. They’re a deep brown – chestnut with speckles of honey whenever they catch the light.

“A small expresso,” he says quietly with a soft smile, eyes flickering to Louis who is nudging him in the hip and waggling his eyebrows insufferably. “Thanks…Zayn,” he adds, after looking at the nametag pinned to Zayn’s uniform.

Zayn grins and calls their orders over his shoulder to one of his colleagues who is busily pouring milk into a Styrofoam cup.

“Oh, and two of those little gingerbread men,” Louis demands, pointing to the biscuits behind the glass. “Harry loves those.”

Liam waits silently as Louis pulls out a wad of twenties from his back pocket and places one on the counter, smiling too sweetly at Zayn.

Liam can smell the cologne clinging to his shirt and the vanilla soap stained to the skin over his hands. He can almost taste the Earl Grey tea pressed over his tongue, the scent of shortbread lingering over his lips.

“Here y’ go,” Zayn smiles, passing over their drinks and the biscuits tucked into a paper bag.

Louis flashes him a prompt smile and turns away, wrapping his hand around Liam’s wrist and pulling him towards the door.

Liam mumbles a gentle “thank you”, dipping his smile into the Styrofoam cup of coffee.

 “Oh, and babe?” He hears Zayn call as they reach the exit, turning swiftly and ignoring Louis’ frustrated huffing behind him.

“Tell your friend that his compulsion won’t work on me, I’m wearing vervain.”

Liam’s lips part in confusion, exhaling a breathless gasp as he shoots Zayn an incredulous look, but Louis is hauling him out of the building before he can reply.

 

|+|

 

Liam wakes up at three that night, toeing downstairs in a breathlessly fast motion. He can hear  Harry’s soft snores from upstairs and Louis’ heavy breathing a couple of rooms away.

Curling up on the sofa he drapes a blanket around his shoulders, switching on the telly and letting the murmur of quiet voices filter into the room so that his thoughts aren’t the only thing filling the silence of the house.

There’s a cold draft sweeping from somewhere downstairs, moonlight flooding the room from the window next to the fireplace.

He can’t get the boy from the coffee shop out of his head, flawless skin and bright eyes imprinted across his mind. He plays their encounter over and over, _‘I’m wearing vervain’_ tracing through every thought.

The shock doesn’t fade; it’s rare for humans to know vampires exist, let alone be able to recognise one. He isn’t sure how to feel – whether he should be concerned that somebody in town knows about them. A threat to his family, to Niall and Louis and Harry, who he’s spent the majority of his existence attached to. The thought of anything harming them, even Louis, pierces a combination of worry and anger through his mind – a sharp stutter of his heart as he imagines the possibilities of anyone finding out what they are and what they’re capable of.

The images replaying through his thoughts are wiped from his mind when Niall appears in the doorway, shrugging a coat from his shoulders and kicking off his shoes.

“Y’ alright?” He asks quieter than a whisper, conscious of the others sleeping upstairs. “Ye look pensive.”

Liam rolls his eyes, grinning.

“Swallowed a dictionary or summat?” He whispers, letting Niall crawl into his lap.

“More like played too much scrabble with Haz,” he mutters, smiling and carding his hands through Liam’s hair.

Liam laughs under his breath, frowning as he glances over Niall’s lips.

“You’ve gotta bit of…” he trails off, gesturing to his mouth.

“Shit,” Niall snaps at himself, wiping away the excess blood from his jaw with the back of his hand. “Cheers, babe.”

Liam hums, wrinkling his nose at the scent of blood lingering in his senses.

“Harry would’ve killed you,” Liam says softly, grinning as Niall punches him in the shoulder. “Sneaking off to feed this late.”

“I was hungry,” Niall mutters, pouting. “It’s in our nature to feed from people, y’ know.”

Liam sighs, licking over his lips and slinging an arm around Niall’s waist.

“Doesn’t mean we have to.”

“But we can,” Niall reminds him, leaning into Liam’s shoulder and pulling the blanket around him, too. “C’n do it without hurting, babe. Eat n’ erase, Li.”

A grimace spreads over Liam’s face and he jostles Niall when he snickers through a whisper.

“Bugger off,” he hisses, smiling. “If I end up drinking from somebody s’ gonna be your fault, Nialler. You’re a bad influence on me.”

“I take full responsibility,” Niall smirks, pressing a kiss to Liam’s forehead before springing up from the sofa and pulling Liam with him. “Now come to bed, bro. You look exhausted.”

“In a bit,” Liam whispers, flashing a smile as Niall nods and disappears upstairs.

He listens as Niall goes into Harry’s room, crawls under the covers and mutters a soft _‘go back t’ sleep’_ , muffled by something that he assumes is Harry’s hair.

Liam lays awake thinking about Zayn for another couple of hours before finally drifting off.

 

|+|

 

He goes back to the coffee shop a couple of days later while Niall feeds.

It’s almost empty aside from a handful of students hiding behind computer screens, their faces painted a fluorescent blue as they scribble down notes into ring binders and chatter in between hefty amounts of tea and coffee.

Liam orders a latte and settles into a seat by the window in the back corner of the room, snatching the open newspaper from the table next to him. He pretends to read while sipping his drink and listening out for Zayn’s voice.

It’s quiet, only unimportant laughter from the group of girls near him and whispered talking from the workers behind the counter. There’s rain drizzling against the window, puddles settling on the pavement outside.

Liam waits half an hour and considers leaving before he hears Zayn’s name mumbled by somebody in the kitchen.

“He’ll be back from lunch in ten minutes,” somebody says, Liam lifting his head to see a girl with lilac hair fiddling with one of the drink machines. “You can go then.”

He smells Zayn before he sees him, the familiar spicy fragrance filling Liam’s senses before he even enters the building. The door is pushed open half a minute later, Zayn walking in wearing the same black attire and a dark apron tied low around his waist. There’s a rucksack swung over one shoulder and Liam can make out the Marvel characters inked over the material from across the shop.

Unlike last time he can see dark ink stained over Zayn’s skin, Liam’s eyes narrowing as he picks out the snake curled over his shoulder, the detailed tiger intricately placed to his left arm and the boldly displayed ‘Zap!’ marked over his forearm.

He discreetly watches as Zayn shrugs on a jacket and taps something on the till, his soft laughter filling Liam’s ears as the girl next to him says something insignificant. He can hear the steady drum of Zayn’s heart against his ribcage, his gentle breathing escaping through parted lips as he laughs again and rolls his eyes.

He looks up seconds later, a smile shifting onto his lips as he recognises Liam in the corner. Liam freezes, chewing over his bottom lip and rushing his eyes away as Zayn slides past the side of the counter and begins to walk over.

“I wondered when I’d be seeing you again,” he says with a grin, dragging out the other chair at Liam’s table and sitting down into it.

Liam stumbles a small smile over his lips, humming and muttering a quiet “Hey.”

Zayn drums his fingers over the table, loud against Liam’s ears.

“I’m Liam,” he says, trying to force something of a smile over his lips just to be polite.

“I, um –”

He frowns at his inability to pull together a sensible sentence, eyes narrowing slightly.

“How do you know…about us?”

“Your mate wasn’t exactly very discreet when he compelled that poor girl,” Zayn laughs, flashing a grin at Liam and laying his palms flat on the table.

Liam shakes his head, his frown forcing wrinkles over his forehead.

He’s puzzles at how relaxed Zayn is about all this.

“I mean, about us in general,” he says quietly, a querying look flickered towards Zayn.

“Oh,” Zayn nods, blinking several times and distracting Liam’s thoughts. “Me mate Ant was a vampire.”

“Was?”

“Is,” Zayn corrects softly, pounding his fingertips over the table top again. Liam notices the bold ink marked over his hand, the elaborate pattern shadowed across his skin. His eyes wander over his own, an amused smile crawling over his lips as he realises the similarities between their tattoos.

“He moved away a year ago to go find some clan in America.”

Liam is now the one to whisper a soft “Oh.”

“He still visits,” Zayn says with a bright smile, licking over his lips. “I see him from time to time.”

Liam nods, speechless for the first time in as long as he can remember.

He hates the nerves pooling in his stomach from the soft brown eyes staring into his.

“How can you walk in the sunlight?” Zayn asks. “One step in it and Ant burns.”

Liam stretches his hand across the table, pointing to the ring on his index finger.

“An old friend made it for me,” he explains, voice quiet. “She was a witch.”

Zayn’s eyes widen almost dramatically, lips parting as he looks at Liam in surprise.

“There are _witches_?”

Liam snorts, nodding.

“You n’ your friend aren’t very clued up about the supernatural world, are you?”

Zayn laughs, leaning across the table to stroke over the ring wrapped around Liam’s finger.

It reminds him of Jade every time he looks at it, the bright indigo stone the same shade as her eyes. He misses her; misses her giggly grin and how she was more like a sister to Liam than anything else.

It’s one of his least favourite things about being a vampire – never growing old while those around you do.

“Okay, my turn,” Liam states, brows furrowed as he watches Zayn’s smile. “Do you drink vervain?”

“No,” Zayn answers, fiddling with a leather bracelet tracing the skin over his wrist. “I wear a bracelet.”

Liam nods, eyes focused on the item of jewellery. He considers ripping it from Zayn’s arm – to ignore the pain the bracelet would inflict over his touch so that he could compel away any thoughts Zayn has of him. To protect his family, and –

“I know what you’re thinking,” Zayn smirks, his eyes glistening. “You’re considering compelling me, right? So that I can’t tell anybody?”

Liam keeps a straight face, biting over his lip.

“I won’t tell,” Zayn says, voice soft. “I wouldn’t do anything to put me best mate in danger and I don’t want to impose the same onto you.”

Liam is still surprised that Zayn knows so much – that he managed to get his hands on the herb that is poisonous to vampires, and that he’s totally okay with knowing what Liam is.

Silence falls between the two, Liam watching as Zayn scratches over his neck. He’s suddenly very aware of the pulse beneath his skin, quickly looking away as his throat becomes numb and he can almost taste Zayn against his lips.

“How many of you are there?” Zayn asks.

His eyes are filled with curiosity as he waits for Liam, and he forces the heavy heartbeat loud in his ears to the back of his mind.

“Four,” Liam tells him, questioning himself as to why he is willing to give this information to Zayn.

“And you all feed from humans?”

“No,” Liam is quick to reply, eyes shifting back to Zayn’s to see the confusion swept to his expression. “Harry and I drink from blood bags.”

“Why?”

Liam swallows, shrugging as he leans back into his chair.

“I don’t like what I am.”

Liam can’t decipher the expression crossing Zayn’s face, something soft entwined between curiosity and surprise.

“So you’ve never –”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Liam hisses through his teeth, letting his eyes fall closed as he draws in a deep breath.

He doesn’t like thinking about his past, let alone discussing it. Memories of those he hurt in the first year of being a vampire quite literally drags an unwanted wound through his heart, images of lifeless bodies bringing nausea to his throat.

“Sorry,” he whispers moments later, shaking his head. “I just, I can’t –”

“It’s okay,” Zayn cuts him off, his smile a little faded. “You don’t want to talk about it; we won’t talk about it.”

Liam studies the truthful expression painted over golden skin, a tiny smile slipping over his lips.

“Thanks.”

Zayn shrugs, chewing over his bottom lip. “Can I ask something else, though?”

“Sure,” Liam says uneasily, resting his hands beneath his chin.

“Your friend that came in the other day – _Louis_ , right?”

Liam nods, eyes narrowing in anticipation.

“He’s like, the _‘bad’_ type of vampire, I guess?”

He can’t help the laughter catching on his tongue, a smile hidden behind his hands.

“He hasn’t always been like that,” Liam tells him, sighing. “It’s complicated.”

Zayn cocks his head to one side, brows furrowed with interest.

“Have you heard of vampires having a _humanity switch_?” Liam asks Zayn, who shakes his head and leans forward in his chair.

“It’s kind of impossible to describe – but we have this switch in our minds,” Liam explains, struggling. “If we flip it then we lose all kind of emotion.”

Zayn frowns, comprehending what Liam just told him.

“So pain, love, sadness –”

“All gone,” Liam says quietly. “It affects guilt the most. It’s like our actions aren’t connected with what we feel at all.”

Liam watches as Zayn’s bottom lip is taken by his teeth, flushed red from where it has been marked.

It’s slightly pathetic that Liam considers kissing over his mouth, wondering how soft Zayn’s lips would be underneath his touch.

“Huh.”

“Louis flipped his over fifty years ago,” Liam explains, eyes tracing Zayn’s reaction. “He doesn’t feel guilt or remorse for what he does.”

Zayn opens his mouth like he’s about to fire through twenty more questions, but he’s interrupted by somebody calling his name from behind the counter.

He turns back to Liam with a sigh, the brightness of his eyes dimming ever so slightly.

“I’ve gotta work,” he says miserably, standing from his seat and eyeing Liam before he reaches into his pocket for a napkin and a pen.

Liam is too distracted by watching long eyelashes and the smug grin clinging to Zayn’s lips to notice what he’s doing, tongue poking out ever so slightly as he writes.

“How do I know you’re not going to repeat anything I’ve just told you?” He asks, suddenly panicked.

Zayn smirks, placing the napkin onto the table and pushing it towards Liam.

There’s a mobile number written in scribbled handwriting, a wink drawn afterwards.

“I guess you’re just going to have to trust me, Leeyum.”

 

|+|

 

Liam lets the water cascade over his body, the showerhead drowning his skin with warmth. Droplets of water cling to his lashes, a bead of sweat rolling over his temple from the intense heat flushing his skin an inflamed pink.

He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Zayn’s eyes – warm like honey and teasing; but with something similar to _trust_ trickling through his pupils. The subtle increase of his heartbeat when Liam smiles at him and the faded blush freckled over his tanned skin; ever so subtle and just because Liam’s vision is enhanced.

The tattoos stained to Zayn’s skin are clear like paintings in Liam’s mind, Liam’s eyes trailing over each image like Zayn is right in front of him. It provokes him to wonder what’s beneath his t-shirt, whether he has more – whether there is ink marked over his stomach, his ribcage, possibly his thighs.

He groans softly, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock. He feels himself fatten up beneath his gentle touch and the thoughts staining his mind of Zayn’s body; of soft, tanned skin and how Liam could mark kisses over every inch.

He drags a lazy thumb over the head, whispering out a husky moan as he clutches onto the shower wall. It’s the only place that is silent, aside from the water rushing over his skin. It leaves him alone with his thoughts, all of Zayn.

Brushing his thumb over the crown of his cock he imagines pinning Zayn to the bed with gentle hands, lips teasing over his skin while a familiar smirk drifts over Zayn’s expression from where he’s watching Liam.

He’s never felt this way about someone after just meeting them, but Liam wants to know every inch of Zayn’s body, to discover what he likes and how Liam can give it to him.

“Shit,” Liam cries out quietly, biting painfully onto his bottom lip as he works out a quicker rhythm, jerking his wrist faster now.

He’s unable to stop the flow of his thoughts leading to imagining his teeth sinking into Zayn’s neck, his shoulder, his _thighs_ – his sharp fangs breaking the skin. It’s undeniably wrong, the thought of hurting Zayn in his mind, but he can’t seem to stop as he strokes himself off; imagining how Zayn tastes. Whether his blood is sweet or bitter, and how the dark liquid would run over his taste buds and down his throat as he sucked over Zayn’s skin.

The mere thought of consuming Zayn’s blood has him close to an orgasm, his hand soothing fast strokes over his cock as he feels his abdominals tighten, a familiar coil building in his stomach.

He whimpers Zayn’s name loosely from his tongue, lips parted breathlessly as he sucks in as much oxygen from the steam billowing around him in the tight space of the shower.

His hold on the shelf to the side of him is gripped more tightly, knuckles painted white as he hunches his shoulders low, head hanging over his chest.

He pictures moans spilling from Zayn’s lips, soft whimpers that juxtapose the smug demeanour he seems to hold. Liam imagines it to be Zayn’s fingers brushing over his cock, gentle fingertips dragged over the crown as he teases Liam with lips nibbling over his earlobe, another hand pinching over Liam’s hip.

He comes into his hand with a temperate sigh, lips releasing a stuttered groan as he sees Zayn stained to every thought trickling through his mind.

 

|+|

 

Zayn is lying across Liam’s bed, limbs outstretched over the mattress.

There is sunlight glittering over his skin and over the sheets, flickers of various shapes painting a kaleidoscope of bright colours over the contrast of tanned skin. He can’t stop staring, unable to move his eyes from the cut of Zayn’s jaw, the freckle displaced in the hazel of his eye.

Nimble fingers as they slip beneath the duvet, the intriguing tattoos painted along his arms.

Liam is convinced he’s never seen anyone so beautiful, even in his two hundred and twelve years of existence.

“What’s it like being a vampire?” Zayn asks quietly, propping up onto his elbows and resting his chin in his palms.

There’s interest sparking his eyes, his bottom lip being chewed by his teeth.

Liam cocks his head to one side, curling his legs in the chair.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he mumbles through a smile, running a hand through his hair.

Zayn waits patiently, kicking his feet down the far end of the bed.

“I’m in pain constantly,” he says quietly, glancing at the questioning expression passing over Zayn’s face. “It feels like somebody is shoving a hot iron down my throat all the time, especially when I’m around humans.”

Liam sighs at the wrinkles creasing Zayn’s brow, a frown pressed over his face as he blinks up at Liam from behind long eyelashes.

“Everything is loud,” he continues, changing the subject in attempt to shake the worried expression from Zayn’s face. “Sounds are clearer and I can hear them from miles away if I want to.”

A small smile stretches over Zayn’s lips and Liam can’t help but stare at his flexed jaw as he bites over his lip.

“Every emotion is heightened.”

Zayn hums, cocking his head to the side and raising a brow.

“Is that a good or bad thing?” He questions, licking over his lips and rolling onto his side, hand pressed to the back of his head to hold him up.

“Both,” Liam explains with a half-smile. “Anger, sadness, pain…it’s almost unbearable. Sometimes it feels like nothing will ever be good, like I’ll never smile again.”

Zayn’s warm eyes glance to Liam’s, another frown flickering over his expression.

“But the good parts are the best,” he says softly. “When we _love_ …we love more than anyone else.”

 He smiles fondly, watching the shyness creep over Zayn’s features. A pale pink strokes his cheeks, his eyes suddenly blinking very quickly.

Liam doesn’t fail to notice the abrupt increase of Zayn’s heartbeat, his intensified breathing.

He diverts his eyes from Zayn’s, clearing his throat to distract himself from the blood rushing to Zayn’s cheeks.

“I’m fast,” he grins, Zayn’s eyes lifting curiously.

He sits up on the bed, knees pressing into the mattress. “Show me.”

Liam laughs, tugging over his lip.

He reaches for Zayn’s waist and they’re in the kitchen in a matter of seconds, a bright smile immediately shifting over Zayn’s lips. Liam places him down gently, keeping a hand to the small of his back to steady him.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Zayn smiles, shaking his head and leaning into the counter behind.

Liam lets his hand drop to his side, denying himself the thought of wanting to feel his fingertips on Zayn’s skin.

“You’re so much faster than Ant – that’s sick,” Zayn says as Liam pads across the kitchen and settles into one of the chairs around the table, grinning.

Liam almost forgets that Zayn is human, and that he’s only known him for just over a week. It feels longer; Liam feels so relaxed around him that it’s hard to believe they’ve only known each other for a little while.

“S’ because I’m older,” Liam asks grins, watching as Zayn paces to the window seat and looks out onto the garden. “Got any more questions?”

Liam likes the way that the sun strokes golden glistens over his face but pries his gaze away from Zayn’s face before he catches him staring.

“Loads,” Zayn says, almost smugly – shooting a smile towards Liam. “How old are you?”

“Guess,” Liam prompts, teasing.

“Fifty?”

Liam laughs, shaking his head.

“Younger or older?”

“Older.”

Zayn bites over his bottom lip, hooking his chin over the edge of the window ledge. “Are we talking twenty years older or more like a hundred years older?”

“The latter.”

Zayn’s eyes widen, curiosity brushed over his features. “You’re a hundred and fifty?”

Liam winces, covering his face with his hands.

“I’m older.”

“You’re kidding,” Zayn grins, intrigued. “How much older?”

“I’m two hundred and twelve.’”

Liam feels a blush staining his cheeks as Zayn gapes at him, wondering why this boy has such an effect on him.

“What’ve you done for the past two hundred years?” Zayn asks. “D’ you not get, like – _bored_?”

Liam shakes his head, shrugging.

“Not really,” he tells Zayn. “We move around a lot and I can’t even count how many jobs I’ve had.”

“What about now?”

“Harry wanted to settle here for the next five or so years,” Liam explains. “I haven’t decided what I wanna do yet.”

“Are the others as old as you?”

“Harry’s the oldest – he’s two hundred and forty nine,” Liam answers, snorting as Zayn raises his eyebrows, astounded. “Nialler’s a hundred and twenty seven and Lou is seventy-eight.”

Zayn laughs quietly, running a hand through his hair. “That’s crazy.”

Liam smiles at the fascination trickled over Zayn’s expression, shrugging.

“Okay, my turn.”

Zayn raises his eyebrows, leaning his chin onto the palm of his hand as he looks at Liam.

“What do you want to know?”

Liam holds back the ‘everything’ on his tongue and shrugs instead.

“Anything. Your family, career, dreams. Anything, Zayn.”

Zayn hums, chewing over his bottom lip.

“There isn’t much to tell, if m’ honest. Me parents and three sisters died in a car crash when I was fifteen, so I grew up with my grandparents in America.”

Liam’s heart sinks, noticing the increase in Zayn’s pulse as he talks about his family.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers as softly as he can, a frown replacing his smile.

He wants to stroke gentle touches across Zayn’s jaw; hold him close and comfort him.

Zayn shrugs, swallowing. “S’ okay. It was a long time ago.”

Liam’s frown deepens. His and Zayn’s definitions of a ‘long time ago’ are incredibly different.

“I moved back to England a couple of years ago and bought a place with the money my parents left me,” Zayn continues quietly. “I don’t want to work in a café for the rest of my life but I don’t actually know what I want to do yet.”

Liam is relieved as Zayn’s heartbeat fades to a regular rhythm again, a small smile trickling over his lips.

“I’m thinking about doing an art degree, but I’d love to write a novel,” he says after a few moments, grinning at Liam. “S’ my dream – to be a writer.”

“Do you write now?” Liam asks, curiosity filling him.

There’s something so innocent about the boy in front of him, something pure that Liam is strangely attracted to, beneath the obvious attraction to his appearance.

He’s unsure why he’s so intrigued by Zayn – possibly because Zayn has been tangled into this supernatural mess.

He should feel a pressing danger, a restlessness that Zayn will spill his secret; but there’s something so assuring about the boy, something about the honesty carved into the depth of his eyes and how strong he’s been throughout his life that has Liam so intrigued and willing to trust him.

Zayn nods, shrugging. “Here and there. None of it is very good.”

“If you ever want a book published I can compel a publisher,” Liam grins, teasing as Zayn wrinkles his nose, a dimple in his cheek from the amused smile tracing laughter lines over his skin.

“I’d rather work my way up to it, but thanks.”

Liam’s eyes linger over the tattoos painted onto Zayn’s arms, the dark ink marked over his hands. There are several peeking out from the collar of his shirt, designs that Liam is desperate to see. He wants to see everything – _know_ everything; to learn about Zayn’s life and his favourite movies, what books he loves and the places he’s been. He wonders if Zayn feels the same.

“You said you move around a lot,” Zayn wonders aloud, looking back to Liam. “How many places have you been to?

Liam smiles, standing to his feet and stretching his arm out to Zayn.

“Come with me,” he says softly, watching as Zayn looks at him with confusion laced onto every feature but takes Liam’s hand anyway.

Liam takes several seconds to adjust to the feeling of Zayn’s fingers threaded through his, how soft his palms are and how incredible it feels for them to be touching in this way.

He unnecessarily sprints up the stairs while holding Zayn’s hand, purely to see the laughter spill from Zayn’s lips at the rapid speed. Pushing open the fifth door along the corridor he lets Zayn enter first, holding the door open until they’re both inside.

The room is empty, a huge window pouring light over the wooden floor. The only thing in the room is a world map across the whole stretch of the far wall, the poster double Liam’s height. It’s covered in pins, four different colours scattered over the map.

“It was Harry’s idea,” Liam explains, smiling as Zayn looks over the wall with astounded eyes, fingers touching several of the pins. “He saw it on… _Pinterest_ – I think it’s called?”

Zayn nods, flashing Liam a grin.

“We each have a colour. I’m red.”

“So cool,” Zayn whispers, tracing along every red pin with curious fingers. “You’ve been to Italy the most?”

Liam catches his bottom lip with his teeth, a faint blush stroking his cheeks.

“S’ my favourite place in the world,” he tells Zayn quietly. “The food, the culture – the architecture is beautiful.”

Liam expects Zayn to make a teasing comment, but he just smiles. “I’ve never been.”

“I’ll take you,” Liam says softly, eyes widening at his forwardness. “I mean – one day, maybe. If you’d like.”

Zayn grins, nodding.

Liam isn’t certain what the gesture implies, but the thought of wandering the streets of Venice with Zayn scatters hope across his heart.

“Louis refused to put his in so I did it for him,” Liam mumbles, changing the subject.

He shifts his gaze to the map and then back to Zayn to see if he was imagining the fond smile appearing over Zayn’s lips.

“What’s in all the other rooms?” Zayn asks curiously, his head tilting to the door. “I counted at least seven rooms.”

“So many questions,” Liam grins, guiding Zayn to the door.

He leads him along the corridor, pointing out each room as they walk through.

“My room, Louis’ room, Harry and Niall’s room, spare bedroom,” he lists. “These three are currently empty – we’re not sure what to do with them yet.”

“What about this one?” Zayn asks as they pause outside another door.

Liam turns the handle and steps inside, revealing the room.

It’s the smallest in the house, a grand piano in the centre.

“The acoustics are great in here,” Liam says, watching as Zayn toes across the floor and sits on the bench in front of the piano. “Do you play?”

Zayn nods, turning to face Liam with a smile. “Me Baba taught me when I was younger – I can’t afford to buy one at the moment.”

Liam stands in awe, shaking his head.

 “So you write, you’re artistic, you play the piano…is there anything you _can’t_ do?”

“Run at inhumane speeds and compel people?” Zayn suggests with a grin, snorting a laugh.

Liam smiles, walking over and leaning against the piano.

“Music is different for vampires,” he says quietly, placing his palms over the top of the polished wood. “Our sensitive hearing allows us to feel the touch of every key; hear every minute detail all at once. It’s almost as if we’re feeling the emotion of the piece we’re listening to.”

Zayn looks stunned, his eyes falling to the keys as his fingertips brush against them.

He’s silent for a moment, thinking, before he begins to stroke the keys – his fingers delicately playing a soft melody. Liam recognises it immediately; a familiar piece by Mozart, soothing to his ears.

He walks around the piano and sits on the bench beside Zayn, waiting patiently before he begins to play at the same pace as Zayn. He harmonises with Zayn’s notes; the higher and lower melodies complementing each other beautifully.

Liam can feel the vibrations of the keys beneath his fingertips, listening to Zayn’s heart beat perfectly in time with the melody being played.

Zayn finishes the piece with a satisfied giggle, the sound so delicate to Liam’s ears.

Liam turns his head, meeting Zayn’s soft eyes. They’re so close, lips almost brushing as Liam’s smile falters. He considers kissing them swollen, staining Zayn’s flawless skin with memories.

The sudden increase in Zayn’s pulse breaks Liam from his thoughts, causing him to stand and put distance to their close proximity.

 

|+|

 

Spending time with Zayn becomes _natural_ , like he’s known the boy with soft brown eyes and a teasing smile for his whole life.

He’s not sure how; but Zayn manages to slot perfectly into his life. It’s unfamiliar for him, to be this close to a human, but as they spend more time together Liam feels at ease. The piercing scold of his throat is easier to forget when he’s distracted by a sweet giggle, or fond eyes that meet Liam’s when they’re mouthing the dialogue to cartoon episodes that they’ve watched too many times.

He knows he shouldn’t feel his heart flutter every time Zayn presses kisses to his cheek, or tangles their fingers together when they’re watching a marathon of movies – cosied up beneath a blanket on Liam’s sofa; but there’s a selfish part of Liam that isn’t willing to give this boy up.

 

|+|

 

Liam hovers by the door as he watches the delivery men bring in the large packages, strips and strips of wood scattered in piles around the large room. There are crates stacked with books, everything Liam has read in his lifetime and everything recommended online that he ordered without hesitation.

Louis is sitting on the window ledge, eyes wandering over the men entering and exiting the room, with a smirk pulled over his smug expression.

“Do you think this is alright?” Liam asks, looking to Harry over the other side of the room.

He’d immediately thought of the idea after Zayn had told him he wanted to be a writer, that he loves books. Perhaps building a library is a little over the top, but they have plenty of spare rooms that haven’t been decorated yet – and it’s worth it for the smile that will take over Zayn’s lips when he sees it.

Louis blurts out a laugh, rolling his eyes.

“It’s pathetic,” he tells Liam, attention diverted as his eyes darken at the human walking past to bring in more books.

“It’s _nice_ ,” Harry snaps, glaring at Louis. “Zayn will love it.”

Louis sniggers again, snarling under his breath.

“Let’s hope Zayn is a sap, because this is bloody ridiculous,” he glares back. “Who the fuck installs a library for a human.”

“You were _engaged_ to a human,” Liam huffs, grabbing another box and placing it on the wooden floor.

He doesn’t let the guilt of his words seep into his mind; Louis can’t feel emotion so his words won’t have an effect.

He’s constantly torn between forcing Louis to flip his humanity back on, unable to stand the hatred towards everything and everyone – but despite not being friends for fifty years, Louis is technically still his best friend. The thought of Louis having to experience the excruciating amount of pain and loss he suffered before he flipped his switch is an instant factor as to why Liam doesn’t try to retrieve his humanity.

“I don’t know why,” Louis grins. “She did taste wonderful, though.”

Liam ignores his comment, helping two of the delivery men who are struggling with another crate of books.

“I guess this means Zayn will be over here a lot more, right?” Louis smirks, licking over his lips. “Maybe I’ll manage to grab a _snack_ when you’re not looking.”

Liam flits across the room in a millisecond; barely flinching as he uses the hammer he’s holding to shatter the bones in Louis’ hand. He winces in pain, clutching his hand and scowling at Liam.

“Don’t test me, Louis,” he breathes angrily, shoving him against the window. “You touch him and you’re dead.”

Louis rolls his eyes, uttering out a sarcastic laugh and flexing his hand as the pain fades. Liam wishes it would last a little longer.

“You’re too _easy_ , Liam.”

Liam turns, listening to Harry compel the men in the room to forget what they just witnessed.

He sighs when he pulls away, throwing a pointed look at Liam. “Was that really necessary?”

“He threatened to _eat_ Zayn – of course it was fucking necessary,” Liam snaps, angrily; snarling.

“Like you haven’t thought about it, Li,” Louis taunts, cracking the bones in his right hand back into place. “You haven’t even considered pinning him against a wall and sinking your teeth into his jugular; letting the blood _ooze_ down your throat?”

“That’s _enough_ , Louis,” Harry growls, throwing him a pointed glare. “I won’t hesitate to kick you out of this house.”

Louis hops down from the windowsill, a petty grin curling his lips.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, tracing the curve of Harry’s jaw with his fingernail. “We all know you wouldn’t do such a thing. I’d just go on a killing spree and deliver the bodies to your doorstep, one by one. Zayn’s being the first.”

He flashes Liam a smirk before he’s gone; slamming the front door behind him in half a second.

Liam kicks at a wooden crate on the floor, sending it sliding it along the wood until it crashes into the wall.

“He does my fucking head in,” Liam grumbles, exhaling a sharp breath. “If he so much as _touches_ Zayn –”

“I think he should start drinking vervain,” Harry says abruptly. “If Louis bit him he’d probably pass out from consuming it from Zayn’s blood.”

Liam nods, chewing over his bottom lip. “You’re right. I’ll sort it out the next time I see him.”

Harry flashes Liam a comforting smile, pushing the hair falling over his forehead away from his eyes.

“I’m gonna go see how many more boxes there are,” he says softly, pacing from the empty room and into the hallway.

Liam retrieves the hammer from the floor and continues to construct the shelves, easily pushing the oak frame against the wall. It takes hardly any time at all, Liam’s rapid movements assembling the furniture within minutes. It takes longer to sort through the hundreds of books he ordered; Liam taking his time to arrange every hardback into alphabetical order as he places them on the shelves.

By the evening, when Liam’s eaten dinner and fed from several blood bags, the library is finished.

He stands in the doorway, content, watching the way the light from the window pours over the desk beneath the windowsill. He can picture Zayn here – reading or writing in the late afternoon while a decorative sunset paints over a cluttered canvas of oranges and pinks amongst a crowd of soft clouds. Perhaps he’ll find inspiration for his book from looking at a shower of stars scattered in a constellation above the house, or by the two of them discussing ideas into the early hours of the morning, when his eyes are blinking sleepily and Liam has to finally carry him to bed because he’s practically asleep in Liam’s lap.

Harry joins him in the open doorway, resting his chin over Liam’s shoulder as he nudges his smiling face into his neck.

“He’s going to love it,” he says, his voice a whisper like he’s going to disturb the soft ambience of the room. “ _I_ love it – I don’t know why we didn’t think of this before.”

Liam smiles, eyes tracing the rows of books tucked neatly into every shelf.

“Haz?”

Harry hums, eyes flickering to Liam’s.

“Do you think that Louis is right?” He asks, chewing over the inside of his lip. “I mean, that this is a bit over the top? I’ve only known Zayn for a couple of weeks, and –”

“Vampires fall a lot quicker than humans,” Harry reminds him softly, shaking his head. “I can already feel that you’re falling for him, and that’s _fine_ – Li. It’s what we do; every emotion we experience is heightened and so it all happens a lot more quickly.”

Liam nods, sighing as he leans his forehead against Harry’s temple.

“I love you,” Harry tells him, a wrinkled smile tracing his lips. “And I want this to work out for you, babe. I just – I think you need to work out what this all means, and the consequences, before you fall _too_ deep.”

 

|+|

 

When Zayn comes around the surprised smile painted over his lips has Liam forgetting Harry’s words and wanting to spoil the boy with everything he could ever want – a hidden encouragement to ensure Zayn gets everything he deserves.

 

|+|

 

Liam pushes through the door of the coffee shop, listening to the bell ringing as he steps inside.

There are birthday banners hanging across the back, clusters of pastel blue balloons dotted around the room. There are hardly any customers, but the baristas are loud as they laugh with one another behind the counter.

Liam spots Zayn talking to the purple-haired girl, watching as she nudges him in the ribs and points in Liam’s direction. Zayn looks surprised, a blush spreading swiftly over his cheeks as he sees Liam approach.

“Hey,” Zayn says quietly, resting his elbows on the countertop and grinning lopsidedly.

Liam smiles, folding his arms across his chest. “Whose birthday is it?”

 Zayn’s grin immediately falters, his cheeks flushing a deeper scarlet than before. “Um, it – it’s mine.”

Liam frowns, questioning eyes flashing to Zayn’s.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was today?”

Zayn sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I don’t like everyone fussing over me,” he shrugs. “The balloons and everything – s’ too much.”

Liam bites his tongue before he can say _but you deserve the best._

“I c’n take you anywhere, babe,” he says instead, his frown deepening. “Name a place and we’ll go. I could…we could go to Paris, Italy –”

Zayn leans over the counter to gently grip Liam’s hands with his own, pulling Liam forwards.

“I don’t want any of that,” he says softly, smiling. “Honestly, I’d rather just chill and watch a film or summat.”

Liam pouts, whining. “We do that most nights, Zayn. You’ve got to celebrate your birthday – you don’t get as many as me.”

Zayn chews his lip and lets out a hushed laugh, shaking his head.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” Liam grins, a little distracted by Zayn still holding his hands with gentle fingers. “Not until you tell me what you wanna do.”

Zayn breathes an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling dramatically.

“Okay, fine,” he says relentlessly, biting onto his bottom lip as he thinks. “Let’s go to a club, alright? I don’t have any plans so we can go tonight.”

Liam blinks at him, eyebrows furrowing.

“I could take you anywhere in the whole world and you want to go to a _club_?”

“ _Leeyum_ ,” Zayn whines, huffing a bit. “You said I could choose anything.”

Liam narrows his eyes, exhaling a heavy breath.

“Fine,” he mumbles, smiling slightly when Zayn’s expression suddenly brightens. “But I’m looking up the most expensive place in town, and I’m buying all your drinks – and we’re getting a booth.”

Zayn glares at him, but nods nevertheless.

“Fine,” he repeats after Liam, mumbling a smile. “But no presents.”

Liam wrinkles his nose, shrugging.

“No can do, babe. I’m getting you something whether you like it or not.”

Zayn groans into his hands, a pout pushing out over his bottom lip.  Liam is certain he’s never seen someone look so adorable.

“I hate you,” he grumbles, a faltering smile catching at his lips.

“I’ll pick you up tonight,” Liam tells him softly, grinning.

 

He picks Zayn up at ten, taking him back home before he drives into town.

He struggles to keep his eyes away from Zayn as they’re walking up the gravel pathway to Liam’s house, unable to divert his attention from the tight t-shirt clinging to Zayn’s torso. The sleeves are cut short, revealing the ink marking his arms; black skinnies with rips at the knees.

His hair is different – flopped over his forehead instead of pushed up out of his face like it normally is. It makes him look softer somehow, the glasses pushed over the bridge of his nose adding to the gentle appearance.

“I hope you didn’t spend much on me,” Zayn mumbles as they reach the door and Liam twists the key into the lock, hiding his smile as Zayn brushes their fingers together.

He pushes the door open to reveal the piano in the entrance, a silver bow placed on the top.

It was the easiest decision he’s ever made – the soft tone of Zayn’s voice when he told Liam he couldn’t afford to buy one ringing in his ears as soon as he’d left the café.

“Sorry it isn’t wrapped – I didn’t even want to attempt it.”

Zayn’s lips part in confusion, his eyes taking in the piano in front of him before he looks back to Liam with wide eyes.

“You’re joking, right?” He questions, withdrawing his touch from Liam’s hand. “Please tell me that you didn’t buy me a piano.”

Liam’s heart collapses in his chest, a frown shifting over his expression.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Zayn immediately whispers, shaking his head. “But this – this is too much.”

Liam sighs, watching as Zayn wanders closer and pauses when he sees the brand labelled in golden letters over the lid.

“Liam, I know how expensive these are…this is probably worth more than my apartment.”

“Zayn,” Liam whines quietly. “I’ve been alive for over two hundred years, babe; it’s not like I don’t have the money. And you deserve to be spoiled once in a while; I want you to have it. I heard you play, you’re incredibly talented, Zayn. It’d be a waste not to put it to use.”

Zayn swallows, his pulse quickening in his ribcage.

“You’re crazy,” he whispers, shaking his head. “I, you’re sure?”

Liam nods in response, smiling. “I want you to have it, babe. Please?”

Zayn wanders over and wraps his arms around Liam’s middle, turning his head so that it rests on Liam’s chest. Liam instinctively does the same, propping his chin on top of Zayn’s head.

“Thank you,” Zayn mumbles, voice a little fragile. “So fucking much, Liam. This is insane – you didn’t need to –”

 “But I did,” Liam cuts him off, brushing delicate fingers along Zayn’s skin. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

 

|+|

 

When they get to the club there is a queue lined up against the brick wall, smoke hanging in the air and gaggles of girls giggling together.

Zayn shivers and huddles into Liam’s side, his nose buried into the fur lining of Liam’s collar. He wraps an arm gently around Zayn’s waist, exhaling shakily as he feels Zayn heart speed up.

He can smell blood somewhere, his eyes glancing across the road where a brunette is sitting on the pavement. There’s a hefty gash on her knee, the blood trickling over her skin.

Zayn must feel Liam’s body tense up beside him because he follows the direction of his and shuffles closer, brushing his fingertips over Liam’s jaw.

“Hey,” he whispers, moving Liam’s head to face him instead.

Hazel eyes stare up at him, a reassuring comfort sparking over his flushed lips. It’s enough to encourage Liam to relax and he shoves aside the painful tugging in his throat to focus on Zayn in front of him.

“Jus’ you n’me,” Zayn says quietly, a half smile spreading over his lips as he wraps a hand around Liam’s wrist and tugs him forward as the doorman lets a group inside.

Liam nods, mumbling a soft _‘yeah’_ as he presses into Zayn’s side and buries his lips into his hair, nose dragging over the citrusy scent from Zayn’s shampoo.

They wait another five minutes before they reach the man at the door, flashing their IDs and grinning as he lets them through.

 “Are there any booths free?” Liam asks him, suddenly very aware of Zayn’s fingers brushing against his.

The man shakes his head, muttering something about them being reserved.

Liam flickers a swift glance at Zayn before stepping momentarily closer to the bouncer, locking eye contact.

“We need a booth,” he says gently, eyes narrowing slightly as the man’s pupils dilate and he shuffles a step back, blinking.

“Right this way,” he smiles, leading the two of them through the heavy doors.

He feels the weight of some Calvin Harris tune blaring through the speakers, the floor vibrating beneath their feet and a cloak of heat and sweat hanging as soon as they enter.

There are flashing lights everywhere, Zayn clutching onto Liam’s arm as he squints into the darkness and lets Liam lead them to the nearest booth. The doorman removes the velvet rope and gestures for them to sit before flashing them a smile and wandering off into the crowd.

Zayn giggles, fingers still wrapped tightly around Liam’s arm.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, biting over his lip.

Liam shrugs, grinning. “What do you want to drink?”

“Anything with vodka in it.”

Liam brushes a laugh through his lips and tells Zayn to stay put, stepping over the rope and heading to the bar. He returns with a martini and a tray of shots, placing them on the table and watching the way Zayn mumbles a quiet _‘thank you’_ in between sipping the dark liquid.

Liam is a little bit sure that he falls in love with the way Zayn’s cheeks flush a deep red as he drinks more and more throughout the evening, his eyes going soft as he smiles languidly at Liam and shuffles subconsciously closer on the seat.

He watches with amusement as Zayn downs shot after shot, wrinkles pressed over his skin as he grimaces and chokes a little on the liquid burning his throat. Liam catches a drop of vodka sliding over Zayn’s lip with his thumb, hesitantly blinking at how soft Zayn’s skin is beneath his touch.

“Your turn,” Zayn mumbles quietly with a messy grin, taking the tray and settling it into Liam’s lap.

He shakes his head, placing the drinks back onto the table in front of them.

“They’re for you,” he says softly, swallowing back the burn scolding his throat.

He winces at the frown pressing over Zayn’s forehead, the fingers digging into his thigh.

“S’ no fun if I’m the only one drunk,” he pouts. “Please, babe.”

Liam smiles and can’t help but brush a gentle hand through Zayn’s hair.

“I can’t, sunshine,” Liam whispers. “If I get out of control and do something to hurt –”

Zayn cuts Liam off with a whine, huffing something Liam can hardly understand despite his sensitive hearing.

“You won’t hurt me,” he says stubbornly, taking another shot and tipping it to his lips. “You wouldn’t be able to live with y’ self if you did.”

Liam bites down onto his lip, tugging until he can feel something other than the fire burning up his insides and guilt splitting him in two.

“I know, Zayn,” he sighs, fingertips brushing over the soft hair behind Zayn’s ear. “That’s why I can’t risk it – I’m not good for you.”

Zayn whines again and Liam can’t help the tiny smile shifting over his lips. There’s this wrinkly line dragged across Zayn’s forehead, his lips jutting out adorably into another pout that Liam wants to kiss over and over.

“Ant used to drink from me sometimes,” Zayn whispers under his breath, but of course Liam hears.

He pulls away further to look at Zayn, eyes blinking over every freckle perfectly placed to his skin.

“ _What?_ ”

Zayn looks up shyly, hiding behind feathery lashes that have Liam a little distracted for a moment.

“He can’t leave during the day because of sunlight, so when he visits he...” Zayn trails off, voice quiet. “I didn’t mind, like, I wouldn’t mind if _you –_ ”

Liam cuts him off with a growl, eyes snapping closed. He can’t help the jealousy stirring in his stomach at the thought of somebody feeding from Zayn, their lips brushing over his flawless skin and the _taste_ _–_

He jerks his head away before Zayn can see the darkness of his eyes and the veins printed below.

He focuses on his breathing, blinking frantically to hide the evidence when Zayn’s fingers carefully touch over his chin, bringing him back. There’s this new look in Zayn’s wide eyes, confusion laced to his expression, and Liam knocks his fingers away from his face.

“We’re not talking about this.”

He winces at the harsh tone escaping his lips, flashing a soft look towards Zayn that he hopes reveals every feeling rushing through him.

“Especially when you’re not sober,” he says, softer this time, dragging his eyes away from Zayn’s hopeful ones.

“But we can talk about it another time?”

Liam sighs, dragging his thumb over Zayn’s bottom lip.

“Yes,” he says reluctantly, shoving a distressed hand through his hair. “No, I don’t know. I can’t think straight right now.”

Zayn presses a silly smile over his lips, kissing Liam’s finger before it is yanked away.

“Can I just tell you one more thing?” He asks, and Liam knows better than to trust the smirk spreading over his mouth, but he mumbles a gentle _‘sure, babe’_ anyway.

Zayn’s words are a little slurred and Liam smiles, amusement flooding through him.

“I had this dream, babes. We were…well _you_ were sucking me off in between drinking from my thighs –”

“ _Zayn_ ,” he gasps desperately, shifting a heavy breath through his lips.

Zayn fumbles a grin and mutters a soft _‘sorry’_ that he definitely doesn’t mean.

“You’re the worst drunk I’ve ever met,” Liam sighs, trying to focus on relaxing every inch of his body.

“The prettiest, though,” Zayn teases, wiggling his eyebrows and encouraging a breathless laugh to fall from Liam’s lips.

“Definitely the prettiest, baby,” Liam says quietly, his thumb sweeping over Zayn’s jaw.

He watches with cautious eyes at the way Zayn’s face softens, a fond smile clinging to his lips as he nudges his cheek into Liam’s touch and presses closer into his side. 

He hates the way his veins feel like electricity, a shiver running down each vertebrae of his spine.

“Do you want another drink?” He asks, humming softly.

Zayn shakes his head, tipping back another shot and leaving the glasses empty on the table.

“Nope,” he mumbles, grinning. “I wanna dance though.”

“I’m a horrible dancer.”

Zayn whines, tangling his fingers with Liam’s and attempting to move him from the seat. He stays where he is, laughing under his breath as Zayn huffs and pouts in Liam’s direction.

“Please?” He asks with another tug of Liam’s hand. “For me?”

Liam growls playfully, standing up as a happy smile spreads over Zayn’s lips instantly.

“I hate you,” he mutters, grabbing a gentle hold of Zayn’s waist and moving them to the dance floor in less than three seconds.

It’s worth it for the giggle tumbling from Zayn’s breathless lips, his face buried into Liam’s neck.

The club is packed, a sweaty bundle of bodies claustrophobically pressed against one another around them. Beneath the heavy bass of music pouring through the speakers Liam can hear the familiar beat of Zayn’s heart, it’s pace quicker as he snakes his arms around Liam’s neck and looks up with shy eyes.

Their bodies are pressed tightly together, Liam’s hands knocking against each other as they are placed over the small of Zayn’s back, enclosing anymore space between the two.

He runs his eyes down Zayn’s body, taking his bottom lip roughly between his teeth as he watches his hips swaying slightly out of time to the music. There are gentle fingertips at the back of his head, twisting into Liam’s hair as the song changes and another comes flowing through the speaker, this one more up-tempo.

A whine clings to the back of his throat as Zayn’s grinds over his crotch, Liam’s hands dragging him impossibly closer.

He tries to look away, but he can’t. There are beams of light dancing over his skin and a subtle smirk stained to Zayn’s lips, a wonderful scarlet under the flickering lights. His eyes are dark; soft eyelashes fluttering as he blinks heavily and scans over Liam’s face in quick glances. His cheekbones are so prominent under the lights, sharp enough to cut glass, and Liam can’t help but want to leave kisses along them.

Zayn goes to whisper something in his ear, but Liam is suddenly very aware of the proximity of his lips grazing over Zayn’s neck, the skin soft, delicate under his touch.

He looks away from Zayn and is abruptly conscious of the amount of people around him. There are bodies everywhere and Liam’s throat burns, the need to feed torturously scalding the inside of his mouth. He can feel his eyes blackening, the temptation growing stronger by the second. 

He yells _‘I’m sorry’_ up against Zayn’s ear before he’s outside, slamming the fire-exit door into its hinges and striking out against the low brick wall separating the pavement and the carpark.

The brick crumbles and leaves blood trickling down his wrist, but the pain is enough to take away the scorching ache running through his veins for a moment.

He dials Harry’s number in a blur, pressing the phone to his ear and growling under his breath until he picks up.

“Harry,” he barks, closing his eyes as somebody walks past and Liam forces himself to remain where he is.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks quickly, worry laced to his tone.

 “I need you to get here,” Liam sighs. “I need to feed and –”

“I’ll be there soon,” Harry says softly, and Liam can already hear the muffled sound of a car engine in the background.

A flutter of wind drifts past him as he waits in the cold, fingers digging into the wall at the tempting scent interweaved into the breeze.

Headlights temporarily blind him as a car pulls into the carpark, Harry immediately hopping out of the car at Liam’s side in an instant.

“C’n you drive him home?” He asks in a whisper, chewing over his lip as Harry nods and brushes his fingers over Liam’s. “Do you have his scent?”

Harry gently grabs hold of Liam’s shirt and steps forward, burying his nose into the crook of his neck before shuffling back with a small smile.

Liam nods, scratching at the back of his neck. “Tell him that I’m sorry, Haz.”

Harry pulls Liam into a hug, gangly arms curling around his torso for several moments.

“Go feed, your eyes are black,” he says softly, before disappearing into the club.

 

|+|

 

When Liam gets home, Niall is standing in the doorway with two blood bags, a careful smile mumbling something that Liam doesn’t hear as he immediately gulps back the soothing liquid.

He hates the surge of power flooding through him as he drinks, a growl deep in his throat as he snatches the other bag and stalks through the house. He swings the fridge door open with too much force and opens up another of the remaining blood bags, wincing as he catches his black eyes in the reflection of the window.

“Li,” Niall says softly from the doorway, worry sketched over his face as he watches Liam drink more and more without stopping. “Liam, slow down.”

Liam slams the door shut and turns to Niall, his eyes glowering with veins painted over his skin.

“I’m hungry _all the time_ ,” he hisses, reaching for a glass on the counter and smashing it against the floor. Niall flinches but stays rooted to the spot, watching over Liam with cautious eyes. “It doesn’t fucking _stop_.”

He reaches for a chair and throws it across the room, cracking the plaster on the wall and shattering the wood into tiny splinters.

“I’m so sick of it,” he snarls, growling as Niall grabs his shoulders to keep him still.

He’s pulled into a hug, battling against Niall’s body for several minutes until he gives up and rests his chin over Niall’s shoulder. Warm hands comfort his back, fingers running along his spine.

Harry wanders into the room and as soon as Liam sees his concerned expression he starts to cry, burying his face into Niall’s neck and letting the tears consume him.

“Liam,” Harry whispers, closing himself around the two and encouraging them to the table.

He falls back into the window seat and lets them sprawl over his lap, Harry cowering into his neck and Niall peppering sloppy kisses over his cheek.

“I hate it,” he mumbles sulkily, wiping his skin with his sleeves.

He thinks suddenly of innocent eyes and tanned skin, images of Zayn flashing into his mind. The thought of gentle touches and a warm, genuine smile calms him a little.

“Did he get home okay?” He asks Harry, sniffling into his hair and letting Niall run fingertips along his knuckles. The wounds have already healed but blood stains his skin. 

Harry nods, whispering a gentle _‘yeah’_ muffled by his lips against Liam’s neck.

“Thank you.”

He hates the guilt building up inside, a pool in his stomach as he thinks of the disappointment and hurt Zayn probably feels.

“I love him,” he breathes, under his breath and barely a whisper.

Anger flares through him; that he’s fallen this quickly since meeting Zayn; that emotions as a vampire are heightened and every feeling is manipulated to feel stronger than it should be.

Harry’s hold tightens around him, Niall biting over his lip and carding his hands through Liam’s hair.

“I think I’m in love with him,” he whimpers, blinking back tears until his eyes are blurry.

 “He deserves the world and I can’t give it to him.”

Harry shakes his head, pressing a kiss to Liam’s collarbone.

“You can,” he says softly.

Liam sighs, anger stroking over his skin.

“I can’t be with him without thinking what he’d taste like,” he grimaces. “There’s this constant fucking reminder that he’s _food_.”

“You can control it, Liam,” Niall tells him, fingertips soft and slow over the back of his neck. “You haven’t tasted blood fresh from the vein in _years_ , you’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“I’m not safe for him,” Liam shakes his head, mumbling under his breath. “He deserves to be with somebody that doesn’t _have_ to control themselves around him.”

“Don’t you think he should be the one deciding what he wants and deserves?” Harry asks gently.

He pulls away, warm eyes blinking up into Liam’s shadowy ones.

“He was quiet on the way home,” he whispers, and Liam feels guilt cornering every atom in his body. “But before he got out the car he told me that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him in a long time.”

Liam chews harshly over his bottom lip, closing his eyes to prevent the tears threatening to spill.

“I think that says a lot, babe.”

 

|+|

 

He doesn't leave his room for four days.

He stays pressed into the mattress beneath a heavy duvet, the curtains pulled shut to prevent any light seeping through the windows. Cautious whispers drift around the house, worried thoughts that Harry pours out to Niall when they assume he's not listening.

Even Louis is slightly uneasy when Liam refuses to leave. 

Several attempts to drag him out mumbled feebly from the other side of his bedroom door, the hurt laced to Harry's tone digging guilt more deeply into Liam's veins.

He can’t stop replaying the night over in his head; how close his and Zayn’s bodies had been. How desperately he’d wanted to kiss over smirking lips, to taste the vodka clinging to Zayn’s taste buds.

But he’s constantly reminded of how easily it would’ve been to rip into Zayn’s neck – and to do the same to the hundreds of others who were around them. He hates that he’s capable to do such a thing, especially to the one person who he is in love with.

He's on the verge of sleep, late in the morning when he hears tyres crawling along the pavement outside, a familiar wounded engine followed by the soft flutter of a heartbeat.

He knows immediately it's Zayn, the hunger devouring his throat prominently heavy, agony lurching in his stomach from four days of starving himself dry. His fingers twist tightly into the pillow as he hears Zayn's voice, his words so gentle and careful as he speaks to Niall in the doorway.

Liam listens with pain seeping into his chest, his mind a filled canvas of scattered thoughts.

"He isn't answering my calls," Zayn says downstairs, Liam's hearing a little scratchy from the little blood in his system. "I know he probably doesn't want to see me."

Liam suffocates a whine into the sheets balled in his fists. He wants to see Zayn so badly that it's almost painful.

"He doesn't want to see anyone," Niall says quietly in response, sighing. "He hasn't left that bloody room ever since you two went out."

There's silence, and Liam uses all his strength to listen.

He can hear the low drawl of Harry’s tone, Zayn’s breathing still heavy in his ears. The exhaustion crawls shivers over his skin, disguising their words, but the faint sound of worry woven into all three voices has him swallowing the guilt pressed stubbornly to his chest.

Several minutes later footsteps are padding up the stairs, Zayn’s heartbeat considerably louder and the surge of blood through his veins fiercer than before.

There’s a feeble knock of knuckles drummed against the wood of his door but he stays quiet, jaw clenched as he hears fingers wrap around the metal handle.

He stays still, limbs rigid as he feels Zayn's presence in the doorway.

"Li?" Zayn breathes, confusion tinting his words.

Liam bites over his lip, picturing Zayn's disorientation as he blinks into the darkness. There's fumbling for a moment until the light fades a dim glow into the room, a sigh trembled through Zayn's lips.

He kicks off his shoes and moments later Liam feels the bed dip beside him, a body shifting over the wrinkled sheets. A breath hitches in his throat as Zayn's arm slides tentatively over Liam's waist, a gentle breath washed over the back of his neck.

"Leeyum," he whispers, voice tender, lips inching cautiously over his skin.

A wrinkled smile presses over Liam's cheeks, a shaky breath sighed into the pillow as he turns on the mattress, rolling over to face Zayn. Worry is etched over his expression, strokes of light trickling soft silhouettes of hazel into the brown depth of Zayn's eyes. The cheekbones smeared as images in Liam's mind are so much harsher now that he's so close, the softness of flawless skin a delicate contrast that has Liam's heart drumming rapidly against his ribcage.

He flashes a shy glance to Zayn, shame easing the hunger clinging to every limb. Zayn strokes gentle fingers along Liam's cheek, his skin so warm and soft in affectionate touches.

"Babe," Zayn says softly, the pads of his thumbs pressing carefully over Liam's eyelids as they're blinked shut.

Toes are brushed against his ankles, the proximity between them too close as Liam swallows the dry lump scratching out his throat.

"You need to drink."

Liam exhales a heavy breath, dragging his hair against the pillow as he shakes his head.

"You're weak," Zayn tells him under his breath, fingertips gentle against Liam's cheek.

"Do you know how fucked up that is?" Liam mutters, brushing wary eyes over the concerned expression settled over Zayn's face. He's momentarily distracted by feathery eyelashes, the appealing fuchsia of Zayn's lips.

"The only way I can survive is from drinking _blood_.”

There's a glimmer of caution in Zayn's eyes, his face falling as he chews over his bottom lip.

"It's not ideal," he whispers, mumbling a half smile.

Liam whimpers through a suppressed laugh, still aware of Zayn's fingers so soft against his skin.

A grin contrasts the wariness settled over Zayn's brow, Liam's heart faltering as he drops his hand away from Liam's face and to the mattress. They fall silent, Liam's thoughts tracing over the million words he's desperate to say.

He ignores the subconscious whisper that maybe it's only three, a confused 'I love you' threaded through every tangle of thoughts stained to his mind.

"I'm sorry," he whispers instead, biting into the inside of his lip. "For running out last week and for, well. Being what I am."

Zayn sighs, the soft sound leaving guilt and stinging unwanted tears to Liam's eyes before he blinks them away quickly, afraid for Zayn to see. There's fatigue tugging at every part of him, a desire to feed inflicting discomfort through his veins as he listens to the slightly irregular flutter of Zayn's heart, the vein prominent just below the skin of his neck.

"I'm not angry," Zayn tells him softly. "I don't care about the other night, Li. And I don't care that you're a vampire."

Liam winces at the word, eyes falling closed.

"All I care about is you," Zayn says after several breaths, fingers clutching at Liam's shirt. "I care that you don't...that you think you can't be with me."

Liam can't stand that his words are so hesitant, that Zayn is scarred so deeply in his mind.

"I can't —"

"I'm not going to stop," Zayn breathes, chest tight. "I won't stop fighting for you, Leeyum. For _us_."

It feels like oxygen is stuck in his throat as he stares at honest eyes that deserve so much more. He can't stop himself from carding a hand through Zayn's hair, fingers delicate over the curve of his jaw like he could break just from Liam's touch.

"Zayn…”

"Liam," Zayn says, stubbornly. "I'm not letting you push me away."

Liam gulps, swallowing the dryness agonisingly scratching out his insides.

He eventually nods, jaw clenched.

"Okay."

Zayn eyes him warily before a smile shifts across his lips, like he's pleased with Liam's answer.

“Please drink,” he adds, shy eyes flashing to Liam’s as he tangles their fingers together beneath the duvet.

Liam tries to ignore the spark settled under his skin at the contact from Zayn’s hands, chewing over his lip as he exhales a sharp breath.

He doesn’t want to leave the bed, not with Zayn so close and holding his hand, but warm eyes flicker wary glances towards his face until he eventually agrees, squeezing Zayn’s fingers as lightly as he can.

 As soon as they’re downstairs Harry is wrapped around his body, arms a little too tight around his chest.

“Don’t ever do that to me,” he hisses softly, burying his frown into Liam’s neck. “Ever again, you twat.”

Liam looks timidly at Niall who is standing further back, eyes black and glaring at Liam.

He knows they’re not entirely mad at him, they just care.

“You need to feed,” Niall tells him, his voice flat as he leads Liam into the kitchen.

He isn’t expecting Niall to turn around moments later and slap him across the face, a sharp sting scattering over his skin. He clutches his face and glares, whimpering.

“That’s for putting Harry through hell,” Niall snaps, eyes narrowing.

He then closes the distance between them, feeble arms bringing Liam into his chest.

“This is because I love you.”

Liam isn’t sure whether he exhales a sob or a giggle into Niall’s shoulder, but he stays tangled in his arms until Harry opens the fridge and the strong scent of blood provokes his eyes to glaze over.

He’s seconds away from ripping it from Harry’s hands and consuming it in one swallow, but he is suddenly aware of Zayn standing behind them.

“You can drink it in front of me,” he whispers when Liam turns, an encouraging smile at his lips. “It’s okay, Liam.”

Liam nods uncomfortably, his limbs closely resembling sandpaper scraping together as he paces towards the freezer. His eyes blur over at the strong scent of blood, eyes darkening and his throat throbbing painfully as he pours the blood into a mug – wary of Zayn in the room.

He grows even hungrier as he swallows the cup of blood in one swallow, keeping his eyes hidden from Zayn’s sight. He hurries through another two bags, turning to face Zayn once he’s wiped his blood-stained lips.

“Better?” He asks softly, reaching to thread his fingers through Liam’s.

Liam smiles shyly as he nods, squeezing Zayn’s hand comforting the ache of his muscles.

 

|+|

 

Liam falls asleep with an arm slung loosely over Zayn’s waist to the sound of soft breathing, but wakes up to empty sheets and a familiar ache trapped in his throat.

The duvet is soft and warm against his skin but Zayn’s side of the bed is vacant and Liam feels panic pressing over every inch of him. He pushes himself up in half a second, eyes blinking frantically as he searches for Zayn’s movements.

There’s running water somewhere downstairs making it hard for Liam to hear anything nearby, the obnoxiously loud surge of water pounding through his ears as he hurries down the hallway.

He pauses for breath in Harry’s doorway as he faintly hears a familiar heartbeat, the pace too rapid. He can hear Zayn’s quickened breath, quieter than a whisper, and a gentle hiss of another voice belonging to Louis.

Fear washes through him and he bites over his bottom lip until he can taste metal on his tongue.

In seconds, he’s in the kitchen, a growl ripping through his teeth as he sees Zayn pressed up against the counter, his mouth covered by Louis’ hand and lips trailing down Zayn’s neck, fangs bared. He can smell the alcohol resonating off of Louis’ body across the room and briefly sees Zayn’s coffee eyes fade from dread to something like relief before he’s launching at Louis, both of them soaring across the room and crashing into the window.

The glass shatters, a shower of tiny pieces falling over them. Liam ignores the cuts to his skin and pushes Louis up against the nearest wall, a hand wrapped tightly around his throat. He’s struggling for breath and Liam squeezes tighter, lifting him so that his toes are barely touching the floor.

The concept of killing him is penetrating his every thought, his breath heavy as listens to the whispers racing through his mind. All he sees is rage; it would be excruciatingly easy to yank Louis’ heart straight out of his chest, but Liam is aware of Zayn’s nervous presence behind him and considers the torture of Harry never talking to him again.

“If you _ever_ touch him again,” he hisses, shoving him against the wall behind. “I swear to _God_ I’ll fucking rip your throat out.”

There’s still amusement written over Louis’ face, Liam slamming his head against the wall once again in attempt to knock it off.

“Liam!” Harry yells as he appears in the doorway, Niall trailing behind with an alarmed look plastered across his face.

Liam growls at the smug grin shifting across Louis’ lips and snaps his neck, his body collapsing in an obscene heap on the floor.

He’s at Zayn’s side in a millisecond, ignoring the gasp falling through his parted lips and brushing careful fingertips over his neck, eyes scanning his body for the sign of blood.

“Leeyum,” Zayn whispers, his breath wrecked and his heart pacing uncontrollably against his ribcage.

“What did he –”

“I’m fine,” he says softly, attempting to steady his voice despite his eyes still wide with alarm. “He didn’t, I’m – m’okay.”

Liam breathes a sigh of relief, ignoring Niall and Harry’s frantic whispers behind him.

“I thought, _fuck_ , I thought he bit you,” Liam says, a whimper clinging to his tongue as he cups Zayn’s neck with his palms, fingers gentle as they stroke into his hair.

He closes the gap between them and presses his lips against Zayn’s, brushing a forceful kiss over his frantic breathing and backing Zayn up against the cupboard edge, an arm wrapping around his waist to soften the marble up against the small of his back.

There’s a fire flickering flames in his throat but he focuses on the way Zayn’s fingers twist into the back of his hair and how soft his skin is underneath his touch. Zayn whines into the kiss and pulls Liam closer, his fingertips heartbreakingly smooth and soft over Liam’s neck.

Liam pulls away reluctantly a moment later, aware of Zayn’s increased breathing and the way his heart is pounding dangerously fast.

His thumb is pressed carefully over Zayn’s bottom lip, blinking at his feet after catching a glimpse of his reflection in the window behind. His eyes are dark, almost black, and there are shadowing veins smeared beneath his eyes.

A shiver runs through him as Zayn’s fingertips brush over his cheeks, the silky palm of his hand encouraging Liam to look up.

“Don’t hide,” he whispers almost silently, the fear in his eyes now dissolved as a careful smile traces his lips.

Liam blinks away from Zayn and concentrates on the water pouring from the faucet against the sink, breathing shakily as the veins disappear.

He looks back to Zayn and almost cries out at the fond smile tucked over his lips, the gentle hand cupped against his cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” Liam whimpers, shaking his head and chewing over his lip. “Fuck, babe, I’m so fucking sorry.”

Zayn nods, still smiling as he blinks up at Liam.

“S’not your fault,” he whispers, his thumb sweeping over Liam’s cheekbone. “I shouldn’t have left, you told me –”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself,” Liam snaps, eyes immediately falling closed with guilt as he exhales a sharp breath. “Thank god you’ve been drinking vervain, if he’d bitten you –”

A light blush peppers Zayn’s skin, his expression suddenly shy.

“I’m, um. I haven’t been drinking vervain.”

Liam’s eyes snap back open, a frown crumpling his brow. “What?”

“I didn’t want to drink it in case there was even a possibility that _you_ wanted to drink from me,” Zayn whispers, swallowing nervously.

Liam inhales deeply and shivers out an exhale, focusing on remaining calm.

He can’t get angry, not after what happened moments ago.

Zayn keeps his hands on Liam’s skin, pulling him close and pressing his chin onto Liam’s shoulder. There are lips on his neck, chapped and warm, Liam’s eyelashes fluttering as Zayn curls an arm around his middle and holds him even closer.

“We’re leaving,” he whispers, pulling away and turning towards Niall and Harry who are still behind them.

There’s still shock pressed to every one of Harry’s features, his eyes wide and his lips trembling a little.

“I can’t stay here,” Liam mumbles, pushing away the guilt weaving its way under his skin. “I’m not staying here with him in the house.”

Niall threads his fingers through Harry’s and shuffles closer, pressing himself into his side and nodding.

“I can’t –” Harry says quietly, his voice wounded and shattered. “I can’t believe this happened.”

Liam listens to Zayn’s rapid breathing behind him, the nervous scratching of his nails against the insides of his wrists.

He steps forward and engulfs Harry in a hug, burying his face into his neck and tugging his fingers through his hair.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I know this isn’t exactly his fault, I mean – his humanity is off, but. I can’t be here right now.”

Harry nods, tearing at the skin of his bottom lip. “Where will you stay?”

“I –”

“With me,” Zayn says softly, looking up shyly as all three of them turn to face him. “He can stay with me until this all gets cleared up.”

Liam looks to Zayn and back to Harry before nodding, stepping forward to take Zayn’s hand in his own. He threads his fingers through Zayn’s, shying his thumb over the ridges of his knuckles.

“You’re coming back, right?” Niall whispers, running a distressed hand through his hair.

“Of course,” Liam tells him, softly. “We just need space for a bit.”

Harry whines and pulls him into another hug, before wrapping an arm around Zayn.

“I’m so sorry you’ve been brought into this,” he says quietly, the guilt heavy in his eyes.

Zayn just nods, looking a little speechless.

“Let’s go, sweetheart,” Liam mumbles, lips at Zayn’s temple and a hand secured at the small of his back as he walks them to his car.

 

|+|

 

Liam holds Zayn protectively against his body when they crawl under the sheets on Zayn’s bed, fingers tangled together at Zayn’s hip as Liam whispers apologies over and over until they fall asleep.

 

|+|

 

Liam’s eyes snap open when he hears a rattling somewhere in the apartment.

He knows Zayn is next to him, his arm protectively wrapped around his waist and their fingers threaded together against the mattress. A steady heartbeat, dark hair a mess against the pillow.

There’s a jingling of keys and Liam immediately uncoils the arm he has curled around Zayn’s middle to pad out of Zayn’s room. He stops in his tracks when he sees a dark figure in the doorway, a sliver of moonlight poured through a gap in the curtains highlighting an unfamiliar face.

Liam bares his teeth, fangs showing as he immediately recognises the figure as a vampire. It’s something difficult to explain – it’s like they this _instinct_ to know one of their kind.

He watches as confusion spreads over the vampire’s face before he is launching himself at Liam, his hand reaching for his throat. Liam almost rolls his eyes, pushing the man away with one shove of his chest so that he goes flying into the furthest wall.

Perks of being old.

There’s a sharp clatter as a photo frame smashes against the wooden floor, the glass shattering into hundreds of pieces. The vampire stands abruptly, Liam’s eyes narrowing as he flits across the room and wraps a firm hand around his throat, pinning him to the wall.

He opens his mouth to speak, but he’s suddenly aware of gentle footsteps rushing over the floor.

“What the fuck is going on?” Zayn asks from the doorway of his room, eyes wide with alarm.

He looks exhausted, heavy bags beneath his eyes as he peers into the darkness of the room. Liam forgets how it must be to have human senses – that Zayn probably can’t see anything right now.

The room is filled with light as Zayn flips the switch nearest to him, a frown furrowing his brows as he steps towards Liam.

“Ant?”

Liam looks back to the vampire he’s holding against the wall, hand slacking but still tightly gripping.

“Who the bloody hell is this?” Ant snaps, looking at Zayn with bewildered eyes.

Zayn wraps gentle hands around Liam’s bicep, pulling him away with a half-smile.

“S’ Liam,” he whispers, a little shocked by the scene. “What are you doing here?”

Ant grins, shoving Liam away from him as he engulfs Zayn in a tight hug.

“Just passing through,” he explains. “Thought I’d surprise you f’ when you woke up.”

Liam stands against the wall, eyes narrowed and mind cautious as he watches the two of them.

He shouldn’t feel jealous – but the soft smile creeping over Zayn’s lips ripples through him like a wave, envy tightening his chest. He follows them through to the kitchen, jaw clenched as he shoves himself down into a chair around the table.

They catch up over the last six months they’ve been apart – tedious anecdotes of Ant travelling across America, and how he’s visited almost every state.

Liam prevents himself from rolling his eyes; he’s visited them all at least three times.

Zayn boils the kettle as he listens with a fond smile, and Liam hates the way the two of them giggle at unfunny statements – private jokes that he is excluded from. He knows he’s being petty, but he can’t help the heightened bundle of jealousy carved into every inch of him.

He pays closer attention when Zayn talks about his time, about the café and how he’s planned out more of the book idea he proposed to Ant when they were last together.

Liam’s eyes narrow into slits when Ant sighs dramatically, yawning jokily.

“You know I love you, but I can’t wait until you’ve quit your job and I turn you – so we can talk about everywhere you’ve been instead of that boring old coffee shop.”

Liam scowls at the rude tone of his voice, even if he’s joking.

He then replays Ant’s words over in his head; stopping in his tracks with what feels like ice replacing his blood. His eyes flash to Zayn’s and he almost growls at the guilt written across his face.

“What did he just say?”

Zayn looks at him, alarmed, before he shifts his gaze back to Ant – something a little angry over his expression, letting him know he spilled too much.

“He’s going to turn you?”

Liam can’t stop the harsh tone splintering his voice, the anger heaving at his chest as he sends daggers towards Ant.

“Liam –”

“You had this planned the whole time?” Liam demands, voice growing increasingly louder as he steps towards Zayn. “You still want this for yourself?”

Zayn parts his lips to speak but no words leave his mouth. Liam steps closer and feels Ant’s hand on his arm, tugging him back.

He turns in a millisecond and shoves Ant away from him so that he crashes into the wall, wincing in pain.

“Don’t forget I’m two hundred years older than you which means I’m _stronger,_ ” he hisses.

“Liam, stop,” Zayn whispers, and Liam can hear the incredibly quick pounding of his heart against his chest. “Let me explain –”

“You’ve watched me suffer all this time,” Liam cuts him off, almost growling. “I’ve told you that I’m in agony every single day, how much I hate this life and what I am and you’re willing to give up being human for…for _this_?”

Zayn frowns, guilt tapered to his expression.

“Leeyum –”

“You know I’d do anything to be human again,” he shouts, before turning to face Ant who is still with his back pressed against the wall. “And _you_.”

Ant raises his eyebrows, glancing at Zayn before back to Liam.

“You’re willing to give him this? That’s what you want for your best mate?”

Ant shrugs, biting over his lip.

“This is what _he_ wants,” he mumbles, “he’s strong, he can handle this.”

Liam inches closer, pressing his forearm to Ant’s chest and keeping him shoved against the wall.

“And what happens when he kills?” He snarls, eyes clouding over. He can feel the veins prominently angry over his skin, his pupils dilating. “When he kills again, and again, and _again_ – until it feels natural? We’re _killers_. It’s in our nature to kill, and once he starts he might not be able to stop.”

Ant looks lost for words as he tries to shove Liam off of him.

“Leeyum,” Zayn whispers again from behind him, voice pained and so delicate that Liam wants to cry.

He pushes away, glaring over the broken expression crumpling Zayn’s face before stalking past. He heads to Zayn’s bedroom, slamming the door behind him and wincing when he hears the hinges fly off from the wall, the splintering of wood as the door falls from its frame and crashes to the floor.

“Fuck,” he curses, turning to see Zayn in the open doorway, lip taken anxiously between his teeth. “ _What?_ ”

“I just,” Zayn whimpers, swallowing. “I just wanted to say sorry.”

Liam just looks at him like he’s mad, eyes wide as he stares at Zayn’s guilt. He should be angry, should want Liam to piss off out of his flat and never come back. But of course Zayn is fucking _sorry_.

“We’ve never spoken about your past before and I, I didn’t even consider the guilt that you probably carry with you so I…I’m _sorry_ , Liam.”

“You’re sorry that I’ve _killed_ people?”

Zayn exhales a sharp breath, his brow pinching.

“That’s not you,” he whispers, almost under his breath but of course Liam can hear. “That’s not… you’re not a murderer, Li. You have control.”

Liam laughs coldly, swallowing.

“It’s what I am, Zayn. We kill, it’s what we do.”

Zayn’s frown deepens as he sighs, his teeth ripping over his bottom lip and Liam’s pretty sure he will draw blood any second now.

“What happens with us, then?” Zayn asks, sadness dripping from his tone. “When I grow old and then die? And don’t say you won’t care, because I know you do.”

“Of course I care,” Liam sighs, eyes flickering to Zayn’s. “I, fuck, I _love_ you, Zayn.”

It’s impossible to ignore the way Zayn’s heartbeat increases rapidly, the way his lips part and his breath comes out a little ragged and choked. Liam wonders if Ant is listening, and perhaps it’s a little wrong that he feels smug – that Ant can probably hear the effect he has on Zayn.

“Leeyum,” Zayn mumbles, voice tracing a half-smile. “I love –”

“Don’t,” Liam whispers in a firm tone, and then, a little softer – “I can’t hear you say it. It’ll only make me want you more.”

Liam can’t read the expression on Zayn’s face, but he’s relieved that he doesn’t finish his sentence.

“We’re fucked either way,” he continues to whisper, swallowing. “I can’t let you die, but I can’t have you like this.”

Liam watches Zayn’s jaw tighten as he listens to Liam, his fingers pinching along his sides.

“You can have me,” Zayn says quietly, sad eyes reaching Liam’s. “I know you won’t hurt me, Liam, you’re strong and –”

 “Why do you think Louis is the way he is?” Liam demands, sitting at the end of Zayn’s bed. “He fell in love with a girl – a human, and he almost killed her. He compelled her to forget that he ever loved her, that she ever loved him, and then he turned it off. He switched off his humanity so he wouldn’t remember how it felt to almost kill the person he loves.”

Liam remembers the events so clearly, even though they happened fifty years ago. He remembers the pain blazed in Louis’ eyes and the clatter of objects in the kitchen as he’d smashed all the plates, the table legs kicked in and splinters of wood scraped across the carpet as he’d broken every chair. The killings that followed shortly after, a pile of bodies in the living room when Liam had woken the next morning.

Louis crying into Liam’s shoulder after the anger had subsided, Liam brushing cautious kisses into Louis’ hair because he had been his best mate before he left for a week and returned with his humanity switched off.

Zayn looks down at his fingers, fidgeting.

“I can’t risk that with you,” Liam breathes, eyes downcast as Zayn glances up. “I could never…I could never live with myself if I did anything to hurt you.”

Zayn nods, a tiny smile trickling to the corners of his lips.

“So turn me.”

Liam sighs, shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”

Zayn stands to his feet, for once towering over Liam.

“I _know_ you wouldn’t, Liam, and that’s because you’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met,” Zayn says, voice getting louder. “But you can afford to be a little selfish sometimes.”

Liam wants to argue, but honestly – he’s exhausted. He needs to feed, to feel the energy poured through his veins, but he can’t do that here.

He watches as Zayn drops to his knees in front of him, kneeling into the carpet and reaching to caress Liam’s cheeks.

He hates that the only thing he feels is love for Zayn; that he can hear the overly dramatic beat of Zayn’s heart when Liam’s eyes soften and he sighs. The surge of emotion seeping through his veins and the longing to tangle his arms around Zayn’s waist and drag him into his lap, to press his lips to the top of Zayn’s head to feel the effect he has on him.

“I couldn’t do that to you,” Liam whispers, just loud enough for Zayn to hear. “I’m sorry.”

Zayn cocks his head to one side, a half-smile lifting the corners of his lips.

“Would you hate me if I was a vampire?”

The smile tracing Zayn’s lips contradicts the soft nerves filtering through his eyes, the way his pulse quickens in rhythm with the fingertips stroking gentle patterns over Liam’s skin.

“I could never hate you,” Liam says under his breath. “I’d hate _Ant_ for doing that to you.”

A frown crumples Zayn’s perfect complexion, his hands dropping from Liam’s cheeks and to the palms of his hands.

Liam feels the need to rip his hands away and distance himself from Zayn to avoid the urge to rip his throat out, but he wants nothing more than to feel the vibrations of the pads of Zayn’s fingers on his skin.

“Would it really be that bad?” Zayn whispers, curiosity flooded in his eyes.

Liam practically growls under his breath and then snaps his mouth shut when Zayn winces.

“Hear me out,” he mumbles, chewing on the inside of his lip.

Liam closes his eyes and feels a thumb soothed over his eyelids as Zayn collects his words.

“I know there will be pain,” Zayn breathes, swallowing. “I hate seeing you suffer, and I know… I know I’ll feel that, too — but. You can help me control the desire for blood; you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. Maybe not always, but Louis and Niall feed from humans and you haven’t relapsed like that since I’ve known you, and — and I’ve seen you control yourself when you’ve been around blood. You could help me to do that, Li.”

“There’s —”

“Leeyum,” Zayn whines, huffing.

Liam holds back the smile threatening to break, triggered by the stubborn look shifting over Zayn’s frown.

He mutters a quiet ‘sorry’ and waits for Zayn to continue.

“I just want to be with you,” Zayn says shakily, his heartbeat increasing significantly.

Liam holds his breath when Zayn leans his forehead to his, his lips almost brushing over Liam’s.

“More than anything I’ve ever wanted, Liam. The pain will be worth it just to be able to touch you, to kiss you. I need that, even if it is selfish of me.”

Liam couldn’t even imagine going through the same pain, the same loss, the helplessness and desperation. He’s regretting ever kissing Zayn, not for feeling the softness of Zayn’s lips, or the sense of closeness between them – but for giving him a false hope in the possibility of _them_. His control around him is unpredictable, his mind constantly teasing the edge of sanity when he’s around Zayn; the need to sink his teeth over inked skin a constant tremble in his veins. He’s not willing to take the risk, he can’t afford to lose control, lose _Zayn_.

Liam let’s his eyes flutter shut again, exhaling a sharp breath against Zayn’s skin instead of tasting the sweetness of his lips.

“Do you realise how fucked up this is, Zayn?” He winces, swallowing. “That you have to _die_ so that we can be together?”

Liam feels Zayn nod, a sigh released as he threads his fingers through Liam’s.

“I don’t think anyone ever said falling in love was easy,” he whispers.

There’s something frail in his voice, something a little bit like fear that Liam isn’t used to coming from Zayn’s confident personality.

Pathetically, he can hear his heart flutter beneath the ringing in his ears – the word ‘love’ so beautiful and effortless as it spills from Zayn’s tongue.

He wants to hear those three little words uttered from dark lips, even though he won’t let it happen.

“Can you do something for me?” Zayn mumbles, his words awfully quiet and timid falling from his lips.

Liam finds himself nodding, eyes returning to the honey-coloured ones blinking at his.

“Just, please don’t move,” Zayn says quietly as he kneels in between Liam’s thighs on the mattress, before crossing his legs.

He moves slowly as he drapes warm arms around Liam’s stomach, like he will disappear any moment now. He probably _should_ leave, especially when Zayn nudges his chin over Liam’s shoulder and his neck is exposed, and significantly more considering he hasn’t fed in two days.

Liam tries to avoid the achingly tempting flutter of a pulse, barely beneath soft skin, and buries his nose into Zayn’s t-shirt to inhale the scent that he could identify from a mile away.

“I want to ask you something,” Liam whispers, nose dragging over the lime body wash clinging to Zayn’s skin.

Zayn stays silent, listening.

“What happens if you turn, and then you decide you don’t want me as a part of your life anymore?”

He can hear the fragility of his own voice ringing in his ears, the fear clinging to his words that has him feeling a little pathetic as Zayn coaxes gentle touches through his hair.

“That won’t happen,” Zayn dismisses immediately, shaking his head against Liam’s neck.

“People change when they turn,” Liam continues, exhaling. “You’re a totally new person, sometimes people turn their back on the people they love in escape for a better life.”

Liam can feel warm breath sweeping over his skin, gentle fingertips along his jugular.

“You said I could be selfish,” he whispers, gulping. “This is me being selfish.”

Zayn pulls away with confusion laced to his expression, both his thumbs marking out the veins suddenly present beneath Liam’s eyes.

“I’m scared that you won’t want me anymore,” he explains, voice cracking.

Liam clears his throat, blinking until his eyes soften and his jaw loosens.

“I know what I want,” Zayn whispers back, eyes constantly glancing from the dark of Liam’s pupils to his lips. “I want you, Liam. Nothing will change that.”

Liam hears a single footstep in the kitchen and is suddenly aware of Ant listening.

He sighs, leaning in to brush his lips to Zayn’s forehead. He lets his mouth linger for a little longer than necessary, ignoring the metallic ache deep in his throat.

“I’ve had this planned ever since I found out what had happened to Ant,” Zayn tells him after several moments of silence. “I need you to know that, Li. I lost _everything_ , Leeyum. My whole family, in that damn car crash. I’m aware that I’m going to spend eternity missing them, but I need to make something of myself, babe. I want – I want to achieve everything for them, y’ know? They went too soon, but I have the chance to live _for_ them, n’ I can’t do that right now. Broke, barrister Zayn Malik from Bradford – Liam. He’s not going to get anywhere in life.”

Liam wants to tell him that he will make it, that he can achieve anything that he wants – but he stays silent as he listens to Zayn’s shattered whisper. He traces over Zayn’s spine with his fingertips, holding him close and hoping the gesture portrays the same as words would.

“I’ve decided this, Liam. For myself, for _them_. I know the consequences, and I’m willing to accept them – no matter what you say.”

Liam hums under his breath, relieving the flicker of anger in his throat with a soft sigh.

“I need to drink,” he eventually says, internally wincing as Zayn slides off of the mattress and loses all contact with Liam.

He wanders to the window, watching as an array of pale pastels are painted over the townhouses beneath an amber sun barely lifting the sky.

“The sun is up,” he tells Zayn, drumming his fingers over the windowsill. “What does Ant normally drink when he visits?”

Liam glances to Zayn when he stays silent, seeing his eyes widen. Liam frowns, before it _clicks_ , and he’s instantly baring his teeth with a growl.

“No fucking way,” he hisses, his veins filled with anger once again. “No way in _hell_ is he still drinking from you.”

Zayn nods, still silent as he fidgets with the strings of his hoodie.

Liam starts pacing, trying to release some of the energy burning furiously through his body.

Zayn attempts to stop him, gripping his arms with firm hands, but Liam is across the room in less than a second.

“No,” he seethes, exhaling sharply. “You can’t touch me when you…when all I can think about is what you taste like.”

Zayn falls silent again with a reluctant sigh.

“You know I’d let you,” he whispers, swallowing.

His words coil in an agonising ache in Liam’s throat, a moan leaving his lips as he begins pacing again in attempt to relieve the desire he feels. The desire to kiss every square inch of Zayn’s body with soft lips, to watch the flush of skin beneath his touch and to taste Zayn – to taste how sweet his blood is.

It drives him crazy, and he turns away from Zayn before he can see the lust darkening his eyes.

“I’m getting him blood bags,” Liam grumbles to deter the conversation away from the subject of Zayn’s blood. “He should be fine with O-negative.”

“You know, you once said we could talk about this,” Zayn says quietly.

“You’re not exactly in my good books after telling me that you want to kill yourself and ruin your life,” Liam snaps, before leaving in a matter of seconds without looking at Ant as he leaves Zayn’s apartment.

 

|+|

 

He manages to successfully compel several members of staff in the nearest hospital before raiding the supply of blood bags in a freezer below the first floor, counting them into his bag and draining the liquid from several to fade the haziness behind his eyes.

By the time he’s back to Zayn’s apartment there are seven missed calls abruptly alerted on his phone, all from Harry and Niall. He ignores them and shoves his phone into his pocket, briefly pausing outside Zayn’s door to ease the anger threatening to smother his emotions and twist its way under his skin.

It’s a little calming to watch the way a smile is painted over Zayn’s lips when Liam walks in, despite the harshness of his tone before he left.

Zayn is on the sofa with his knees propped beneath his chin, Ant further down next to him. Liam immediately trains his eyes over Zayn’s neck and down to his wrists, cautiously checking for wounds or the scent of fresh blood.

It’s a little unnecessary, but he stalks past Ant and drops into the space between them on the sofa, curling a protective arm around Zayn’s shoulders.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Ant says when Liam tosses him a blood bag, relief dripping in his voice as if Liam hadn’t threatened him and thrown him against a wall a couple of hours ago.

He turns to gently knock his head against Zayn’s, leaning into his side.

“Feeling better?” Zayn says as he shifts closer, subtly tapping over the tattoo marking Liam’s forearm.

Liam nods, eyes blinking shut as he toes against Zayn’s ankle and breathes a soundless sigh.

“Sorry f’ shouting at you,” he says quietly, lips against Zayn’s temple.

He’s still beyond furious, livid that Zayn wants to become what he is – and a little heartbroken that Zayn is prepared to die in order to do so. But he can’t help but feel the comfort stroking over his skin at the feeling of having Zayn tucked into his side, and selfishly he’s not willing to give him up over a wrong decision he wants to make.

“S’ okay,” Zayn whispers over Liam’s collarbone. “I know why you’re angry, I just. This is what I want.”

Liam opens his mouth to respond, but his phone blurts out a shrilling ringtone.

He answers it out of frustration, huffing into the speaker.

“I’m with Zayn, I’m fine,” he tells Harry, whose breathing he can hear on the other end.

“Thank god you picked up,” Harry says, voice rushed and slightly panicked. “I need you to come home.”

Liam lifts an eyebrow, shaking his head.

“I can’t. Not with Louis in the house –”

“ _Liam_ ,” Harry snaps, and Liam freezes because he can’t remember the last time Harry spoke in that tone. “You _need_ to come home.”

A frown creases Liam’s expression, his hold on Zayn loosening.

“Why?”

“Fuck,” Harry breathes, the panic rising in his tone as he hisses at Liam through the phone. “He’s turned it on.”

“What?” Liam breathes, standing with his hand tightly gripping the phone pressed to his ear.

“When he woke up, he – _shit_. Liam, his humanity is back and I’ve never seen him like this,” Harry barks at him.

Liam can hear the sadness laced to the urgency in his cold voice, and picture the alarm sliced across Harry’s usually-composed expression.

“You’re his best friend,” Harry whispers, and then – “at least you were, before his heart was broken and the only way he could repress the pain was to repress _everything_.”

Liam looks at the worry trembled over Zayn’s frown, the tug of his bottom lip between his teeth as he pads across the floor and takes Liam’s hand in his own. It’s comforting, the familiarity of Zayn’s warm touch grounding him amongst the flare of emotions building inside.

“The Louis sitting here crying his eyes out is not the Louis that you found with Zayn in the kitchen yesterday,” Harry continues, desperation growing stronger in his voice. “He’s feeling everything he should’ve felt over the last fifty two years all at once, Liam. Losing Eleanor, watching Daisy and Phoebe die –”

“Okay,” Liam says quietly, swallowing the dry sensation clinging to his throat. “I’ll come back.”

Zayn looks a little confused, cocking his head to one side as he strokes into Liam’s palm.

“Thank you,” Harry whispers, and for the first time Liam can hear agonised sobs from somewhere in the house. “I’ll see you soon.”

He pulls away from Zayn as he ends the call, reaching for his jacket.

“What’s going on?” Zayn asks softly, a combination of curiosity and worry filtered through his eyes behind long lashes.

“Louis’ humanity is back,” Liam says, stuttering out a cough to cover the crack of his voice, the fragility of his words.

Zayn’s eyes widen, his bottom lip taken between his teeth.

“I’m so sorry that I’m going back to him after he –”

“Don’t be silly,” Zayn tells him with gentle eyes, wrapping his arms around Liam’s neck.

Liam buries his face into Zayn’s collar, drinking in his scent and the way Zayn’s fingers card through his hair as he holds him close.

“He needs you,” Zayn adds, pulling away to sweep nimble fingertips over Liam’s skin as he looks up with cautious eyes. “He didn’t actually hurt me, so tell him I’m not angry.”

Liam stares at Zayn with disbelief, smiling as he struggles to believe how someone can be so impossibly forgiving and kind. He leans forward to press a kiss to Zayn’s forehead, his eyes shifting to Ant when he pulls away.

“If you so much as think about drinking from him I will –”

“Kill me,” Ant finishes, smirking.

Liam considers ripping the smug smile from his lips with his teeth.

“I get it,” Ant says, hands held up in surrender. “I’ll stick to the blood bags – thanks, mate.”

Liam rolls his eyes, threading his fingers through Zayn’s and trailing him to the door.

“I hope he’s okay,” Zayn whispers, reaching up to wrap his arms around Liam’s neck.

Liam’s eyes close, his chin resting on the top of Zayn’s head. “Thanks, babe.”

When Zayn pulls away he reaches onto his toes, cradling Liam’s cheeks with the palms of his hands as he presses his lips to Liam’s forehead.

Agony tears through him, the desperation and need to lean down and kiss Zayn growing more and more by the second.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Liam mumbles, dragging his thumb over the stubble growing at Zayn’s jaw. “I’ll call you later.”

Zayn nods, pulling Liam in for another quick hug before he opens the door and lets Liam go.

 

|+|

 

Liam can hear muffled sobbing when he’s at the end of the road, a sharp exhale breathed nervously as he pulls up in the driveway and sees Harry waiting in the open doorway. He can make out the despair creasing his expression from the end of the path and is wrapping his arms around Harry’s tall frame in a quarter of a second.

“He hasn’t stopped crying since he woke up,” Harry whispers, voice filled with exhaustion as he buries his face into Liam’s neck. “We tried talking to him but he kept telling us he wanted to see you so that he could apologise.”

Liam breathes a shaky sigh, wrapping his fingers around Harry’s wrist as he toes them into the kitchen.

Louis is sitting in the middle of the floor, legs crossed and his face buried in his palms.

He looks up at Liam standing in the doorway with tears clinging to his cheeks, skin flushed with blemishes. He begins to cry harder when he sees Liam, his pulse increasingly heavy in his chest.

Liam’s heart breaks a little bit – the sight of seeing Louis cry for the first time in fifty years inflicting pain over every thought. He almost forgets about the past events, the current scene being the only thing filtered through his mind.

“Li,” Louis gasps, his breathing rapid as he chokes on a sob. “Fuck, Liam. I’m so fucking sorry for what I did.”

Liam takes a deep breath, kneeling in front of Louis on the floor.

He wraps firm arms around his shoulders, holding him to his chest.

“It’s okay,” he whispers softly, sighing as Louis whines into his neck. “That wasn’t…it wasn’t _you_ , Louis.”

Louis hiccups, shaking his head. His arms wind around Liam’s middle, his grasp almost suffocating as he holds onto Liam.

“Still doesn’t make it okay,” he whimpers. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done, I – _fuck_. I shouldn’t have turned it off in the first place.”

Liam looks up at Niall and Harry who’re sitting at the table, their hands clinging together in Niall’s lap. There are tears brimming over Harry’s waterline, his teeth tearing into his bottom lip as he hides his face in Niall’s shoulder.

Everything about this is unbearable, almost torturous as he witnesses the people he cares about most in such pain.

“You had a good reason to,” Liam whispers, holding Louis more tightly as he begins to cry harder. 

“It’s even worse now than it was all those years ago. Pushing every emotion away for half a century wasn’t my best idea.”

His voice cracks, Louis’ fingers curling into Liam’s shirt.

“You’ve had worse,” Liam mumbles, a half-smile fading over his lips as Louis whimpers through a quiet laugh.

“I’m so sorry for almost hurting Zayn,” Louis repeats, his words almost inaudible. “I know how much he means to you, and I, shit – I don’t know what I can ever do to make it up to you. I’m surprised you’re even here right now.”

Liam cuts off Louis’ babbling by pressing his lips to his forehead, tracing soft fingers over his neck.

“He must _hate_ me.”

Liam brushes laughter into Louis’ hair, shaking his head.

“He doesn’t,” he tells him quietly, smiling. “Hard to believe, I know – but. Zayn’s like that; he’s very forgiving, babe.”

Louis sighs, sinking lower in Liam’s hold.

“Is there anything I can do?” Liam asks softly. “Anything I can do to make it better?”

Louis shakes his head, sniffling.

“You being here is enough.”

Liam hears Harry whimper under his breath, a fond smile brightening his expression ever so slightly.

“Ten years ago you said you bumped into Eleanor,” Louis breathes, head turning to Niall who nods. “How was she?”

Niall smiles softly, squeezing Harry’s hand.

“She was great, Lou. Old, obviously – but she was with her daughter and grandson. She looked happy.”

Liam watches the confliction of sadness and relief on Louis’ face dissolve into one, releasing an exhausted sigh into Liam’s shoulder.

“I still love her,” he whispers, eyes falling closed. “Even after all this time.”

Harry detangles himself from Niall and joins them on the floor, engulfing both of them in a hug.

“I know you do,” Liam says, smiling slightly as Harry kisses his temple. “But she’s happy, babe. And one day you’re going to find somebody else, and you will be too.”

Exhaustion seeps into every feature as Louis nods into Liam’s chest, a frown pinched between his brows. He mumbles a sleepy _‘I love you guys’_ over Liam’s skin, fingers wrapping gently around Harry’s wrist.

They stay silent until Louis eventually falls asleep, finally melting away his restlessness.

Liam carries Louis upstairs without struggle, placing him onto his bed as gently as he can. He pulls the duvet up to Louis’ chin, carding tender fingertips through his hair as he leans down to mumble a kiss over his forehead.

Halfway down the stairs he drags his phone out from his back pocket, searching for Zayn’s contact as he wanders into the kitchen.

Zayn picks up on the second ring, his voice cautious as he answers.

“Hey,” he says quietly as Liam takes a seat at the table, filtering out Harry and Niall’s hushed conversation to focus on the sound of Zayn’s voice.

He can hear Ant’s breathing in the background, a wave of sudden anger brushing through him.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

“Is everything okay?” Zayn asks, the worry in his voice provoking a smile over Liam’s lips.

“I think he’s okay, yeah. Just overwhelmed by everything – obviously. He’s sleeping at the moment.”

He hears the soft sigh of relief on the other end of the phone, Liam desperately wanting to feel it breathed over his skin. It’s a little concerning how addicted he is to Zayn; every moment they’re apart feeling like a century.

“I’m going to stay home for a couple of days, maybe more – just to be here with Louis.”

“Yeah, okay,” Zayn says, humming.

“I’ll come over tomorrow with more blood bags for Ant,” Liam tells him quietly, fiddling with the necklace hanging around his neck.

“Kay, babe,” Zayn responds, voice delicate through the phone. “Miss you.”

Harry looks up with a fond smile, giving himself away that he’d been eavesdropping on their conversation. Liam flips him off, ignoring Niall’s laughter as he grins.

“I miss you more,” he says through a whisper. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Zayn ends the call after mumbling a gentle ‘ _bye’_ , leaving Liam to his own thoughts.

 

|+|

 

Liam sits on his balcony late in the afternoon, several empty blood bags scattered over the wooden stretch of floor. The air is cool, fresh almost – a whisper of wind flitting through the clutter of trees at the far end of the garden.

He can’t take his eyes away from the sky, a deep orange sun flickering glittery beams of tangerine against pale pastels and corals.

It’s silly, but he can’t help thinking of Zayn’s eyes as he watches the differing colours seeping into one another.

Liam takes a moment to close his eyes, inhaling the strong scent of wood burning in a crackling fire that he can hear just over a mile away. A soothing melody of birds singing, the rush of a river behind the forest surrounding their house.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there before Louis pokes his head around the glass window of his balcony, a small smile quirking his lips.

“C’n I come sit with you?”

Liam nods, opening his eyes and watching Louis sit in the comforter beside him.

Things have been good between the two of them for several weeks – after Louis’ flow of apologies and Liam forgiving him by cuddling his best mate into his chest for what felt like hours.

It isn’t like he can forget everything that happened, but he’s looked into unfamiliar eyes for the first time in fifty years. It’s like he has gained back a family member, only Louis has been here the whole time.

“What’re you doing out here?” Louis asks, hugging his legs to his chest.

He hooks his chin over his knees, watching Liam curiously.

“Just listening to the world, y’ know?” Liam replies quietly, shrugging sunken shoulders. “Thinking about everything that’s happened in the last six months.”

Louis nods, looking out onto the garden.

Louis leaves his seat and squashes in next to Liam, resting his head on Liam’s shoulders whilst sighing.

“Can I ask you something?”

Liam chews over his bottom lip, voice soft. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you try to get me back?” Louis asks. “You never tried to make me flip it back. None of you did.”

“We didn’t want you hurting,” Liam whispers, swallowing. “You weren’t exactly my _favourite_ person for the last fifty years, but at least you weren’t miserable.”

“I’m miserable now,” Louis says, almost inaudibly.

Liam sighs, slipping an arm around Louis’ waist. “I know, Lou.”

They’re momentarily silent as Harry flits out of the doors beneath them and into the garden, crossing the vast stretch of grass in half a second. Niall speeds out after him, catching up and trapping arms around his middle to brush a smug grin over his lips.

“At least they had success with love, right?” Louis asks, snorting into Liam’s shoulder.

Liam laughs, but feels his heartstrings tugging as he thinks of Zayn.

He watches Niall and Harry, picturing them as him and Zayn. Giggly kisses, joined at the hip because they can’t stand to be apart.

“Why haven’t you tried to be something more with Zayn?” Louis whispers, as if he can read Liam’s mind.

He wouldn’t exactly be surprised if Louis could, in all honesty.

Liam sighs, nosing into Louis’ hair.

“The thought of hurting him, even a _scratch_ , just tears me apart,” he answers, voice soft. “After what happened to you and…”

He cuts off, exhaling before he finishes his sentence.

“What happened with Eleanor,” Louis confirms quietly. “You can say her name, Li. M’ not going to break down every time I think about her.”

Liam nods, but beneath the confidence he can hear the shake of Louis’ voice – the regret laced to his tone.

“I don’t blame you at all – it’s just _proof_ of what can happen, you know?”

“Yeah,” Louis whispers. “We’re different, though.”

A frown trickles over Liam’s expression and he pulls away slightly so that he can watch Louis’ face.

“What do you mean?”

Louis rolls his eyes, and for once it’s as if the no-humanity Louis is sat right next to him.

“You’re stronger than I am, Liam. You have more control than me; you always have.”

Liam blocks out the laughter trailing through the air from Harry and Niall at the end of the garden to focus on Louis’ firm tone.

“Think about it,” he tells Liam sternly, gripping at Liam’s arm. “When you first became a vampire you lashed out, you killed – but that’s normal, Liam. You were _bloodthirsty_ ; hungry. It’s what every single one of us does – but you were different. You showed _remorse_ , guilt, sadness for what you had done. From what I’ve been told, not even Harry showed those emotions, just pure anger and thirst for blood and for human lives.”

He pauses, edging away from Liam to face him.

“It took you a _year_ to control yourself after you were turned, Liam. It took me three.”

Liam stares blankly, Louis’ words seeping into his mind. He refuses to remember that first year; it’s too painful and tortuous to relive that part of his life.

“I hurt Eleanor,” Louis whispers, voice weak and shattered as he trains shy eyes on Liam. “I almost took away her life after she put all of her trust into me – and I’ll have to live the rest of my life knowing that I almost took hers, but I managed to stop, Liam. There was something in me, something past the desire and urge to carry on sinking my teeth into her artery that _stopped_ me.”

Liam bites down onto his lip, his heart suddenly an unsteady rhythm inside his chest.

He’s never considered it like this before; that Louis did manage to stop before it was too late.

 “You’re so scared that you’re going to hurt him, but have you ever actually considered that there might be a part of you stopping you from doing just that?”

Liam leans his chin onto his hands, sighing.

“Is it worth that risk, though?” He asks. “Is it worth the risk of losing him, all for my own gain?”

Louis smiles softly, shrugging.

“Last time I checked, Zayn loves you just as much as you love him.”

 

|+|

 

He wakes up coated in sweat; an uneasy feeling in the depth of his stomach as he looks around the room, disorientated.

The dream was too vivid – too real it left Liam shaking, his pulse erratically quickened beneath his skin.  He can’t rid of the image imprinted across his mind; Zayn stepping out of a shadowed darkness with a smirk tracing his expression, fangs visible over his blood-stained lips. Ant stood behind him, crimson droplets of blood across his chin and a similar smug smile pulled over his teeth.

Liam takes a moment to breathe, clutching at his chest as he tries to regain his breath. He can’t seem to shift the thought of Zayn as a vampire from his brain – even with his eyes blinking into the darkness of the room.

It hits him like a ton of bricks; an uneasy gasp tripping over his quickened exhales.

He can’t wait until Zayn has been turned.

He wants, _needs_ to feel the stammer of a heartbeat beneath a delicate ribcage as Liam brushes fingertips over his skin while Zayn is still human – to whisper affectionate kisses over Zayn’s lips before he’s no longer breakable; no longer the same, soft Zayn who works in a coffee shop and whose dream is to write novels in his short life.

Liam chokes at the thought of Zayn becoming a vampire and deciding he doesn’t want Liam in his life; that Liam won’t have familiar lips kissing over the imperfection of a birthmark scribbled to his neck and a giggly voice running over the lines of _Friends_ when they watch reruns – because he’s watched the episodes too many times.

He wants Zayn, _his_ Zayn – before it’s too late.

The Zayn that laughs at unfunny jokes half an hour later than when they were told, and the Zayn that has a row of action figures lined on his windowsill because he’s just as much of a geek as Liam is.

He’s out of bed in a split-second, tugging on a pair of jeans and throwing on a plain t-shirt sprawled across the floor.

His bedroom door slams open and Harry appears in the doorway, eyes wide as he stares at Liam.

“What’s going on?” He asks quickly, Niall in tow behind him. “Your heartbeat woke me up.”

“Sorry,” Liam whispers, swallowing back the bundle of nerves low in his throat. “I had a dream and um, well. I’m going to see Zayn.”

Harry studies his face curiously, stepping closer. “Why is your heart racing so quickly?”

Liam wrinkles a smile to his lips, searching for a pair of shoes.

“I want to try – I’m going to try things with him.”

Harry’s face remains blank before he looks like he’s about to burst of happiness, springing onto Liam with Niall laughing in front of him.

“I’m so happy for you,” he beams, voice muffled from Liam’s hair. “Call us if you need _anything,_ alright? I’m going to stay awake just in case anything happens and you want me there.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Liam tells him, eyes diverting to the doorway as Louis appears.

“What the bloody fuck is going on in here?” He snaps, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s half past three in the goddamn morning n’ some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“I’m going to work everything out with Zayn,” Liam says quietly, keeping a hand gripping the back of Harry’s t-shirt as he pulls away. “Or try to, at least.”

The frown shifts from Louis’ face, a knowing smile softly replacing it.

“Good luck, mate,” he says, patting Liam’s back as he walks past.

Liam hadn’t even noticed Niall’s two-second departure, but he’s suddenly in front of him in the hallway, several blood bags waiting in his hands.

“You might want to top up before you go?” He suggests, a grin spilling over his lips.

Liam kisses his forehead before draining two of the bags, quenching his thirst until the fire in his throat crackles down to a weaker heat.

“Just remember how strong you are, Li,” Louis whispers from behind him when they all huddle at the front door, Liam giggling at their echoing smiles.

He nods, grabbing his keys from the small table by the door.

They’re all stood at the gate when he reverses out of the drive, a rumble of fond laughter vibrating Liam’s chest at the excitement clinging to all three of their faces.

He drinks through another couple of blood bags on the short drive to Zayn’s house, the anxiety stumbling nerves through his mind becoming increasingly stronger by the second. The thought of soft eyes and a delicate smile has him a little more relaxed – the mere thought of brushing his lips over Zayn’s running adrenaline through his veins.

When he reaches Zayn’s apartment block he compels security to let him straight in, not bothering to buzz up to Zayn’s flat.

There are people in the foyer of the building, despite the early hours of the morning, and cameras at every corner – so Liam takes the stairs two steps at a time instead of flitting up to Zayn’s apartment in a matter of seconds, his heart rattling in his ribcage as he hears the soft familiarity of Zayn’s breathing four floors away. He takes several moments to compose himself outside of the apartment, running a hand through his hair before pounding frantically on the door.

He listens to silence for several moments before there’s a pair of feet stepping onto the cushioned carpet, slow steps padding out across the floor from the bedroom and towards the door.

Liam can hear Zayn so loudly whilst he’s reaching for the handle, their bodies separated only by a slither of wood splitting the hallway and Zayn’s apartment.

He sucks in a breath as the door is pulled open, Zayn’s lips parting with surprise as he sees Liam waiting outside. His hair is slightly dishevelled, like it is when he’s just woken up – a fringe trickling over his eyelashes and various strands straying out from his scalp.

Liam takes a moment to watch his soft smile, the brightness of his eyes as he looks to Liam with curiosity. The thick jumper he’s wearing is a little too big, the material loose over his thighs and chest which makes him look so small, and Liam wants to wrap protective arms around him and admire how soft and cuddly Zayn looks as he sleepily rubs a hand over his eyes.

“Y’ okay, babe?” Zayn asks, accent thick with sleep.

Liam nods, cautiously walking into the room as Zayn shuts the door behind him.

“Sorry to wake you,” he whispers, feeling unusually shy as dark eyes meet his and nerves bubble in his insides.

“S’ fine,” Zayn mumbles, a yawn shaping his lips. “Is something wrong?”

Liam waits for a moment before shaking his head. He then nods, sighing as Zayn frowns.

He steps forward, cupping Zayn’s cheeks with gentle fingers.

“I just…” he whispers, bowing his head so that his lips trace Zayn’s and he can taste Zayn’s breath on the tip of his tongue.

He kisses Zayn as softly as he can, eyes falling shut at the way Zayn immediately softens into his hold and curls an arm around his waist.  He’s missed the feeling of Zayn’s lips on his; the hitch in Zayn’s throat as he spills a desperate kiss over Liam’s mouth.

Liam pulls away for a brief moment, eyes scanning Zayn’s eyes before blinking over his lips.

“I need to try,” he manages to murmur, watching for a reaction. “Whatever this is between us – I can’t live with myself knowing that I didn’t even try.”

Liam is a little in awe at the brightness of Zayn’s smile, how fond his eyes are as he reaches to bring Liam closer. He focuses on how soft the pads of Zayn’s fingers are, how delicate his palms are against Liam’s skin, instead of letting himself get tangled up in the increasingly loud pulse beneath Zayn’s neck and the rush of blood in his veins.

“C’mere,” Zayn grins, arms draped around Liam’s neck as he coaxes another gentle kiss over Liam’s mouth.

Liam is still learning how Zayn tastes, absorbing the sharp flavour of mint toothpaste over his tongue. He moves his hands from Zayn’s waist down to his thighs, fingers squeezing softly over his skin as he lifts him up. He’s light as a feather, Liam easily shifting his weight in his arms while Zayn wraps his legs around Liam’s waist.

“Can’t get over how strong you are,” Zayn giggles into Liam’s mouth, gasping as his back hits the wall.

“Fuck,” Liam hisses, pulling away. “I’m so sorry —”

“Didn’t hurt,” Zayn whispers, reaching forward to stumble another kiss over Liam’s lips before he can move away. “Just made me jump, babe.”

Liam momentarily waits before kissing back, eyes closing as Zayn’s tongue parts his lips.

“You need to tell me if I hurt you,” Liam demands as softly as he can, holding Zayn up with one arm as he brings his other to brush fingertips over Zayn’s cheek. “Just tell me if you want me stop and I will.”

Zayn nods, a little breathless as he smiles dopily at Liam.

“Definitely don’t want you to stop,” he says through a grin, hands cradling Liam’s neck with the lightest of touches.

A smile sparks over Liam’s lips, happiness echoing through his body.

“I love you,” he breathes, the words still unfamiliar on his tongue as he leans his forehead against Zayn’s. “So much, Zayn.”

Zayn’s hands move to Liam’s hair, his thumb smoothing over his scalp as he brushes a kiss to Liam’s bottom lip.

“I know,” he whispers, and then, softly — “I love you, too.”

Liam feels restless, this tangle of both nerves and relief bundling in his stomach as he hears Zayn’s soft voice telling him the words he’s wanted to hear for so long. All he wants to do is kiss Zayn, mark every inch of soft skin with gentle lips — but he forces himself to watch over Zayn’s face a little longer, to admire the way his lips move when he tells Liam that he loves him.

“Say it again,” Liam requests, peeling his eyelids open to watch the flutter of Zayn’s eyelashes, the strand of hair that has fallen across his forehead between his brows. The trickle of hazel in his eyes and the movement of his lips as he smiles through another gentle “I love you, Leeyum.”

He wants to stay in this position forever, with Zayn in his arms at this proximity. He tastes the words falling from Zayn’s lips as he kisses him, letting them flow from his tongue over Liam’s. His chest is tight at the emotion burning his veins, the desire surging through his blood.

Liam smiles, tracing the curve of Zayn’s jaw with his fingers as they lean against the back of the door.

“You have no idea what you do to me, babe,” he whispers, voice low as he breathes a sigh over Zayn’s lips.

“Tell me,” Zayn whispers back, swallowing. His eyes watch over Liam’s darken ones, cautious hands cupping flushed cheeks. “I want to know what it feels like.”

Liam shakes his head, attempting to absorb every thought sprinting at ridiculous speeds through his mind.

It’s impossible; Zayn makes him feel everything at once.

“I don’t know how it differs from being in love as a human, I never experienced that,” Liam says quietly, eyes shut. “But when I’m with you it feels like every nerve in my body is electrified.”

Zayn is quiet, eyes soft as he listens.

“I’d die for you,” Liam continues. “The thought of anybody hurting you…your safety is all that matters to me.”

He snaps his eyes open to watch the fond expression strained to Zayn’s face, the curiosity behind his eyes and the softness of his touch against Liam’s skin.

“You make me unbelievably angry — you never raise your voice with me and it gets under my skin, because you… you have every right to hate me sometimes, but you never do. You always apologise for my own mistakes, and you want to become what I am — which makes me so unexplainably mad —”

Zayn bites over his bottom lip, eyes falling from Liam’s to his lap.

“But I can’t imagine my life without you,” Liam whispers, brushing his thumb beneath Zayn’s chin to lift his head. “You won’t understand how it feels to have every emotion intensified, but even hearing your heart beating drives me crazy.”

Zayn smiles, a blush stumbling over his cheeks because he knows Liam can hear how easily his pulse quickens when Liam cups his waist with careful fingers.

“Every time you touch me I feel like my skin is burning,” Liam explains, before adding – “But in the best way. There’s this selfish desire that I never want your hands anywhere but on me.”

Zayn’s breathing has increased, eyes cautious as he brushes his fingertips across Liam’s jaw. “Like this?”

Liam swallows, nodding jerkily.

Zayn’s hands move to Liam’s shoulders, palms slipping beneath his shirt over the firm muscles of his back. “And this?”

Liam stays silent, lips parted as Zayn leans in to kiss him. He focuses on the way Zayn’s tongue licks into the roof of his mouth, slow and careful, but is immediately aware of the hands snaking over Liam’s waist, the fingers dragged down over his stomach.

“How does it feel?” Zayn asks in a whisper as he smooths his thumbs over Liam’s hips, nails scratching lightly over the trail of hair leading down to beneath Liam’s jeans. “Tell me, babe.”

“So good,” Liam breathes, not daring to open his eyes. “It’s like I can feel you everywhere.”

He can taste Zayn’s smile on his lips, feel the stutter of Zayn’s heart beneath his touch.

Zayn’s fingers run over the hem of his t-shirt, tugging a little with asking eyes stared into Liam’s. Liam nods, shrugging out of the material as Zayn pulls it over his head.

“Fuck,” Zayn grins, fingers stroking over Liam’s chest and down towards his stomach.

Liam suddenly feels shy with Zayn’s eyes washing over his body. “What?” He asks, nervously, trying not to let the feel of Zayn’s hands distract him.

“Nothing,” Zayn shakes his head, smiling. “You’re just gorgeous.”

Liam places Zayn onto his feet, letting him reach up to tangle arms around Liam’s neck and brush a soft kiss over his bottom lip.

“C’mere,” Liam mutters, fingers threading through Zayn’s as he tugs him towards the bedroom while still kissing him. He immediately places a supportive hand to Zayn’s waist as he trips over his own feet, giggling into Zayn’s mouth.

“So clumsy,” he whispers, grinning, erasing the pout from Zayn’s expression with eager lips.

Zayn shoves at his chest, hard, until Liam falls backwards onto the sofa. (His push couldn’t move Liam if he wanted to, but he feels the need to satisfy Zayn nevertheless).

Zayn wastes no time in climbing into Liam’s lap, straddling his waist and pinning his hands to the back of the sofa. He looks smug, that cocky smirk tracing his lips that Liam has wanted to kiss away so many times.

“Don’t look so arrogant,” Liam whispers, voice low as his lips brush over Zayn’s earlobe. “We both know I could be the one on top of you in a tenth of a second, sweetheart.”

Liam’s eyes blink shut at the whimper that Zayn kisses over his jaw, a half-moan clinging to the tip of his tongue. It drives Liam crazy. The sound alone makes his blood boil beneath his flushed skin.

He’s eager to see what is beneath the jumper hanging a little loosely off of Zayn’s slim frame, to see the tattoos stained to his skin and to trace every blemish with his tongue. He’s pretty sure he could spend days mapping out Zayn’s body, seeking out every freckle and listening to a stuttered pulse as his fingers explore new skin.

“Can I —?” He asks softly, fingers curious and itching to quite literally tear off the material.

“Yeah,” Zayn breathes, letting Liam rid of the heavy jumper.

Liam’s hands cup Zayn’s ribs, palms sliding down his sides as he admires new parts of Zayn he has been exposed to. He thumbs over the blocky heart inked over Zayn’s hip, the gun intricately detailed at his waist.

He’s intrigued by the wings tattooed to Zayn’s chest, the mouth in the centre that he leans in to press his lips over. Zayn whimpers under his breath, the pace of his heart quickening and suddenly incredibly loud in Liam’s ears.

He pulls away, keeping his fingers at Zayn’s waist for comfort as he pinched his eyelids shut to prevent Zayn from seeing his darkening irises.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, swallowing back the urge to feed.

Zayn shifts in his lap, fingertips so gentle as they brush over his closed eyelids. “It’s okay, babe. Slow, yeah?”

Liam nods, lips pressing a soft kiss into Zayn’s palm as his hands slip down towards Liam’s jaw.

“Sorry,” he repeats, blinking frantically until he peers at Zayn from behind hooded lids.

Zayn leans down to kiss him, uttering a soft sigh.

“I love you,” he smiles. “I love you, it’s okay.”

Liam exhales a shaky breath before a half-smile shifts over his expression, fond eyes staring into his relaxing him a little. Zayn kisses him so softly, almost like a reward for controlling himself so quickly.

“You’re so pretty,” Liam whispers half a moment later, cocking his head to one side and grinning.

He loves the way Zayn’s cheeks tint a darker shade of pink, something other than his blood that’s so appealing.

“Gorgeous, babe,” he murmurs, tracing the playing card marked to Zayn’s ribcage.

Zayn drowns out Liam’s affection with a needy kiss, a whimper slipping from his lips. Liam makes a mental note that Zayn likes to be praised, and then another that praising Zayn will definitely not be a hard request to comply with.

“C’n you do that thing where you go super-fast, but into the bedroom?” Zayn asks, grinning at Liam from behind batted lashes.

Liam laughs, eyes all crinkled at Zayn’s hopeful expression as he wraps both arms around Zayn’s middle and stands from the sofa.

They’re in Zayn’s room in a millisecond, Liam leaning Zayn onto the bed as gently as he can. Zayn is giggling, arms reaching out to bring Liam closer on top of him.

“That’s so sick,” he tells Liam, licking laughter into Liam’s mouth. “I can’t wait until I can —”

Zayn cuts himself off before he can finish his sentence, arms immediately tightening around Liam’s neck like he might leave.

“Sorry,” he whispers, his breathing suddenly quickened against Liam’s skin. “Forget I even said that, Leeyum.”

Liam nods, swallowing and focusing on Zayn’s fingertips in his hair rather than letting a sudden lapse of anger consume him.

“It’s okay,” Liam tells him quietly.

“I don’t want to ruin this,” Zayn says. “I shouldn’t have —”

“Nothing you say could ruin what we’re doing right now,” Liam says softly, his thumb light across Zayn’s cheek. “I’ve waited too long for this.”

Zayn hums contently, lifting his head from the mattress to drop more kisses to Liam’s skin. “Me too.”

Liam watches Zayn’s eyes move down his half-naked body while his fingers drag him closer.

“How are you even real?” Zayn whispers.

Liam is distracted by the feathery flutter of his eyelashes, his magnified vision focusing on every lash that sweeps soft blinks over Zayn’s eyes.

“Technically I’m dead,” Liam mumbles, smiling half-heartedly. “Hardly real, love.”

He wishes he hadn’t of said those words the moment they leave his mouth, immediately feeling guilty as a frown replaces the breath taking smile brightening Zayn’s eyes.

“Don’t say that,” Zayn scolds, biting over his bottom lip as he peers up into Liam’s eyes. “Your heart beats just the same as mine.”

His fingertips press into Liam’s neck as he speaks, feeling for a steady pulse beneath his touch.

“You’re not dead, Leeyum,” he continues, face overly serious. “You’re here with me, okay? Just you n’ me, babe.”

Liam manages to nod, his love for Zayn too loud in his thoughts as he leans down to be closer. His thumb outlines Zayn’s mouth, parting his lips as he coaxes a soft kiss against Zayn’s tongue.

He shifts his weight, wedging his knee in between Zayn’s thighs as Zayn’s kisses turn desperate, a hand grabbing at Liam’s hair.

“How about we make a deal not to discuss anything vampire-related?” Zayn suggests, eyebrows quirked as he fiddles with the silver necklace dangling at Liam’s chest.

“Deal,” Liam is quick to agree, nudging his nose against Zayn’s. “I like the sound of that.”

“D’ you know what I also like the sound of?” Zayn whispers, a coy smile clinging to his lips. The arrogant expression is back, a smirk plastered beneath. “You. _Moaning_ – while I suck you off.”

Liam winces, sucking over Zayn’s bottom lip.

“I definitely like the sound of that,” he whimpers, sliding his hands down Zayn’s hips and thumbing over the tattoos decorating his skin. “Wanna try it out?”

Zayn’s fingers are already fiddling with the zipper of Liam’s jeans before he’s stopped talking, hastily tugging the material at his hips. It takes everything in him to wait patiently as Zayn wrestles with the trousers until they’re being kicked off onto the floor somewhere, instead of ripping them off in a matter of seconds.

Gentle touches over Liam’s thighs send shivers along his spine, his throat tight as Zayn reaches up to brush more kisses over his lips before he’s uncoordinatedly ducking underneath Liam’s elbows to crawl out of the bed.

Liam immediately misses the contact of their skin, of Zayn’s lips on his. He sits up on the end of the bed, a crooked smile falling over his expression as Zayn leaves an affectionate half-kiss to his knee.

His knees dig into the carpet as he kneels in front of Liam, lips smoothing over the soft skin of Liam’s thighs. Liam can’t help but remember the time Zayn had mentioned his dream about Liam drinking from his thighs, the image in his mind stirring his thoughts as Zayn’s tongue sponges against his skin. He forcefully snaps out of the moment before his eyes darken, and focuses on how eagerly Zayn peels down Liam’s boxers.

He has no time to even think before Zayn is dragging his tongue over the head of Liam’s cock, nails digging into his thighs as he reaches forward.

Liam chokes, a moan numb and harsh at the back of his throat.

He tenses, his cock instantly fattening at the attention. Zayn’s lips close around the tip, eyelids fluttering shut as he mouths down further.

Liam reaches to grab a careful fistful of Zayn’s hair, gaping breathlessly as Zayn slurps his way down Liam’s cock. His mouth is _euphoric_ – slurping at the head and coordinating between fast and slow movements, shallow and then deep.

Liam forces his eyes open, groaning as he watches Zayn with hooded lids.

“Baby,” he croons, biting over his bottom lip and stroking into Zayn’s hair.

Zayn’s fingers press deeper into his thighs, nails scraping over his skin. His cheeks hollow and Liam utters out a blissful moan, hips shifting slightly on the mattress.

Zayn slides off and flickers feathery eyelashes up at Liam, licking into his palm before he cradles Liam’s cock with gentle fingers. He licks over the crown, mouth sloppy and eager as he blinks up an innocent smile stretched around Liam’s prick.

Liam swallows a stuttered moan, cradling the back of Zayn’s skull with his hands.

“Fuck,” he hisses, lips parted breathlessly as Zayn hums around his cock, plucking vibrations over every inch of Liam’s body.

He leans back a little, keeping one hand in Zayn’s hair while the other fists into the crumpled sheets over the mattress.

Zayn’s tongue is heavy with precome, eyes glistening as he pulls off and smears it down Liam’s cock with his thumb, dragging his spit over the crown.

Lazy caresses over the base of Liam’s prick, mouth widening as he takes in more.

“Christ,” Liam breathes, reaching to brush away a tear brimming over Zayn’s waterline.

The muscles in his stomach are so tight, electricity pulsing over his skin at the obscene touches strumming pleasure over his limbs.

“Sweetheart,” he manages to whisper, fumbling a gentle touch over Zayn’s cheek. “I wanna – _fuck_ , Zayn. You need to –”

Zayn pulls off, flashing a smirk upwards to Liam.

He doesn’t know how to feel, Liam’s mind working at a million miles an hour as he tries to read the expression carved delicately to Zayn’s face.

 Zayn pushes up from his knees to stand in between Liam’s legs, grinning smugly as he reaches down to wrap fingers around Liam’s prick. Liam flips them immediately so that he’s lightly pinning Zayn onto the bed, tracing swollen lips with his tongue to rid of the arrogance echoed over his face.

Zayn’s mouth opens to speak, but Liam hushes him by pressing his forefinger over his lips.

He tugs at Zayn’s joggers whilst kissing down his chest, listening to the ragged breathing pouring into his hair. His lips trace the cursive writing inked just above the hem of his boxers, ignoring the throb of his dick as he hears Zayn’s needy whine while edging his mouth closer.

He flashes Zayn dark eyes before easily tearing his boxers down the middle in one swift motion, flinging them behind him.

Zayn pushes onto his elbows, frowning. “I happened to have liked those, Liam.”

Liam rolls his eyes fondly, shutting him up by carefully sliding Zayn’s ankles along the mattress until his legs are bent, flicking his tongue over the rim of Zayn’s hole.

“Fuck,” Zayn whimpers, chest heavy as he watches Liam through almost-closed eyes.

He shivers, and although Liam can hear a prominent pulse as he holds Zayn’s wrist with soft fingers – and the urge to feed is so tempting that it’s cutting sharp edges at his throat; the way Zayn’s body reacts beneath his touch is incomparably better.

He can make out these little noises underneath the blood ringing in his ears, a sob that Zayn nearly chokes on as Liam traces the broad of his tongue over Zayn’s hole.

He keeps his eyes secured on Zayn’s lips, parted and breathless as he watches Liam nudge his tongue inside him. There’s a subtle sprinkle of blush tainting his cheeks, something a little warmer brushed over his neck as he grips helplessly at the sheets tangled beneath his tight hold.

Liam stares, blinking behind long eyelashes and focusing on Zayn’s soft cries to keep him grounded.

“Good?” Liam asks, voice gentle as he raises his brows quizzically and trembles a soothing kiss into the softness of Zayn’s thighs.

He’s slightly amused at the babbling whimper that clings to Zayn’s tongue, exhaling contently as fingers slip into his hair.

“So good,” Zayn breathes, nodding jerkily.

The pleasure spilling from Zayn’s lips urges him to keep rimming at Zayn’s hole with the tip of his tongue, fingertips gentle against Zayn’s thighs as he spreads his legs further.

He can feel Zayn’s muscles stretching out as he flicks his tongue deeper, eyes still on Zayn’s. There’s a tiny crease between his brows, his bottom lip taken by his teeth – and Liam can’t stop looking. Can’t stop watching the ripples of pleasure arching Zayn’s back against the mattress, the way he sinks back into Liam’s touch.

Parted lips, a sweep of hair brushed messily over his forehead. Fingers clutching at Liam’s hair, his grip tightening with every deeper stroke of Liam’s tongue. 

“C’n you –” Zayn gasps. “Fingers, babe.”

Liam pulls away with saliva trailing from the tip of his tongue, briefly sucking on his forefingers before teasing the rim of Zayn’s hole with wet fingertips.

“Li,” Zayn whines, complaining at the smirk shifting over Liam’s lips and the teasing touches whispered over his skin.

Liam stretches out Zayn’s muscles gently; feathery touches as he ghosts kisses over Zayn’s skin.

He’s a little addicted to the breathy moans recited from Zayn’s lips, the temperate sounds echoing in Liam’s ears.

He gets deeper, teasing Zayn with slow movements and soft praises that he whispers into Zayn’s thighs; quiet _‘I love you’_ s as he traces Zayn’s hip with his spare hand.

“Fuck,” Zayn whines under his breath, gasping.

He catches at Liam’s wrist with shaky fingers, reaching to hold Liam’s hand against the sheets.

Liam smiles, fond as he flickers warm eyes at Zayn.

“C’n you –” Zayn cuts off, a choke catching his breath. “C’mere, Li. Need you to… _god,_ Liam.”

Liam doesn’t want to stop, the effect he’s having on Zayn far too enjoyable as he nudges his tongue back into Zayn’s hole, teasing the tip around the rim.

“Please,” Zayn whimpers breathlessly, tugging at Liam’s hand. “Babe –”

Liam pulls away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, body hovering over Zayn’s before he can blink.

Zayn reaches his hands into Liam’s hair, leaving a kiss to his nose.

“I need you,” he says softly, desperation carved into his tone. “Want you to fuck me.”

Liam swallows, chewing into the inside of his mouth.

“Are you sure?” He whispers, uncertain as he peers into soft eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Zayn smiles languidly, stroking his fingertips over Liam’s scalp.

“You won’t,” he whispers back, voice soft like velvet. “You _won’t_ , Leeyum. I’ll keep you with me, I promise.”

Liam searches for the flicker of gold tracing the outline of Zayn’s pupils before nodding. He spills a soft kiss over Zayn’s lips, mostly to reassure himself.

“Maybe you could ride me?” He asks shyly, knocking his nose against Zayn’s.

The thought of getting a little lost in his own thoughts while pinning Zayn down shakes worry through him – he knows how strong he is compared to Zayn’s small frame.

Zayn mewls a quiet whine over Liam’s lips at his words, his head nodding against the mattress.

“I’m more than okay with that,” he grins through a giggle, cupping Liam’s cheek as he smiles.

Liam flips them, hands easily lifting Zayn into his lap.

“You’re gonna start giving me whiplash,” Zayn tells him, trickling laughter over his lips. “I can’t keep up.”

Liam hums, smiling. He reaches up to trace the sharp outline of Zayn’s jaw with nimble fingertips, but Zayn pushes Liam back against the mattress with sparkling eyes.

He leans down to whisper kisses down Liam’s chest, over the tightly woven hair against his skin. Hands thumb at his waist, lips marking over his nipples and triggering a light moan fumbled into Zayn’s hair.

He focuses a sharp kiss over Liam’s birthmark on his neck, teeth scraping over the delicate skin there. Zayn pulls away to possessively admire the darkening blemish, frowning as it almost immediately fades back to familiar golden skin.

“What?” Liam asks, brows furrowing at the sudden change in Zayn’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t leave marks on you,” Zayn whines, pouting. “S’ already gone.”

Liam clamps his lips together before laughter can filter through.

 “You’ve already left a mark on me, sweetheart,” he says softly. “S’ better and way more important than a silly little bruise on me skin.”

Another smile trickles over Zayn’s lips, a breathless kiss parting Liam’s.

He groans when Zayn wraps a hand around the base of his cock, teasing his hole over the tip.

Steadying a hand to Zayn’s hip, a gasp sweeps over his lips as Zayn eases onto him with a whimper.

“Baby,” he moans, eyelids hooded as pleasure arches his spine from the mattress.

He blinks his eyes open to watch Zayn’s naked body above him, tugging over his lower lip until it’s painful. There are flickers of light from the window stretched against the near wall pouring patterns onto Zayn’s soft skin, each blocky tattoo highlighted and contrasting his tanned skin.

Liam thumbs over the dimples beneath the bones of his hips, watching restlessly at the ripple of toned muscles as Zayn sinks lower onto his prick.

“Fuck,” Zayn cries softly, fingers gripping onto Liam’s waist.

His bottom lip is nearly bloody between his teeth, Liam prying a thumb between his lips to prevent the very thing from happening. 

There’s this coil in his stomach, something other than the incredible pleasure from Zayn around him. A warmth spreading over his chest, muscles straining as he watches the pinch between Zayn’s brow; the shudder of a breath as he arches his spine.

He sighs when Zayn settles into a rhythm, Liam’s cock stretching out his hole. His toes curl against the soft sheets and he fists one hand against the mattress. He wants to hold Zayn’s hips, to trace every dimple – but he’s afraid of decorating flawless skin with dark bruises.

His eyelids flutter at the gasp lapsing over Zayn’s open mouth, the way the sound quietly echoes in Liam’s ears for moments after.

Liam can feel the intensified bliss glittering over every outstretched limb, wondering if it feels the same for Zayn. He can’t quite remember how anything felt when he was human; the desire to please Zayn burning a hole in his chest as he brushes a shaky hand over the crown of Zayn’s prick.

“Li,” he mutters sharply, eyes flickering open as he watches Liam stroke him off.

“Good?” Liam asks, smiling as Zayn whines tenderly.

 “I need – c’mere,” Zayn stutters, beckoning Liam towards him.

He pushes onto his elbows, reaching closer as Zayn wraps his arms around Liam’s neck and smothers a needy kiss over his breathless lips. The angle is a little uncomfortable, his muscles stretched as he holds to his chest.

He can’t help the wrecked giggle he breathes into Zayn’s hair when Zayn cries out something inaudible over the birthmark placed to his neck, words muddled as he pinches his eyes closed and gets deeper on Liam’s prick.

“Slow, babe,” Liam prompts softly, tapping out patterns over the bottom of Zayn’s spine.

He wants to take his time, to make this last – despite the intense pressure abruptly building in his stomach from every touch Zayn wanders over his skin.

Zayn slows the movement of his hips, whining into Liam’s neck.

“Good boy,” Liam praises, anxious as the scramble of words pour from his lips.

He’s still learning with Zayn, testing out the waters.

“Fuck,” Zayn whimpers effortlessly, stuttering out a moan.

Liam notices the sudden increase in Zayn’s pulse, the way his fingers grab a little desperately into his hair. He smiles, nosing over Zayn’s forehead.

“Such a good boy for me,” he whispers, exhaling sharply as Zayn rotates his hips, stretching deeper.

A choked moan catches on Zayn’s lips, Liam watching how his cock fattens at Liam’s words.

“I love you,” Zayn whispers, his mouth brushing over Liam’s.

A shower of rain begins to pour outside, raindrops tapping quietly against the roof. It’s probably soft, but in Liam’s ears it’s so loud – a crack of thunder following. It’s sort of perfect – the sudden shower blocking out every sound around them, so that all he can hear is their heavy breathing and Zayn’s echoing heartbeat fluttering in his ribcage.

“Love you more,” Liam mutters breathlessly, a smile clinging to his lips.

Zayn whines at Liam’s hand stroking his cock from precome spurting out over the crown, the tip wet over Liam’s stomach.

Something twitches deep in his core when he lifts his hip from the mattress, gently of course – triggering a surprised moan over Zayn’s tongue that he licks over Liam’s teeth. He pulls tightly on the sheets, blinking in quick flutters as he watches the blissful expression chasing every whimper from Zayn’s lips.

He doesn’t even have time to think about the scolding burn in his throat, the heavy weight of his muscles as Zayn leaves whimpering kisses over his shoulder. He’s too invested in the soft, tiny whispers being brushed against his skin, Zayn’s fingertips fumbling shaky touches over his collarbone, his chest, down to his thighs.

“Have I told you that you’re incredible,” he breathes, trying to articulate his words even though it’s useless; all that tumbles from his lips are a clutter of mismatched letters. “And so, _so_ beautiful, Zayn.”

Zayn smiles, lopsided as he hums a tantalizing kiss to Liam’s mouth.

He doesn’t respond, but the delicacy of his touches over Liam’s body speaks more words than anything else.

“Leeyum,” Zayn drawls, lips parted as they hover over Liam’s. “M’ gonna – _fuck_ , babe.”

Liam continues to coax kisses over Zayn’s open mouth, his thumb pressing over the slit of Zayn’s cock.

Cool air circulates the room, the breeze easing the stretch of his muscles as Zayn chews a whimper up over his collarbone. Fingers curl desperately into Liam’s hair, eyes pinched shut as Zayn spurts streaks of come over Liam’s stomach, a silent moan tracing the outline of coral lips.

“Zayn,” Liam hisses, both hands clutching the rippled waves of sheets either side of him as Zayn ghosts echoic whimpers into his skin; triggering his orgasm.

Liam is astounded at the way Zayn keeps sinking onto his cock as he comes, half-watching as he blinks away the white blur clouding his vision. He groans over Zayn’s lips, the pleasure cradling every flinch of his body.

He manages to catch his breath quicker than Zayn’s, an ecstatic smile buried into matted hair as Zayn hides his blush into Liam’s shoulder.

He likes seeing this side of Zayn, quiet and reserved in contrast to the spirited confidence he usually exhibits.

There’s silence between them, comfortable as Zayn presses tender kisses over his neck and his heart stutters a quick pulse. Liam whispers a giggle over Zayn’s earlobe, aching for contact again as Zayn climbs out from his lap, lying on his side on the mattress.

He nudges closer, hooking his chin onto Liam’s shoulder and sketching out cursive touches over Liam’s hip while using a crumpled sheet to brush over his stomach.

Liam’s eyes soften as lips are buried into the crook of his neck, cold toes swept down his ankles.

He takes a moment to breathe everything in – the fresh scent of rain lingering through the open window and the familiarity of Zayn filling all of his senses.

His eyes trail over Zayn’s body, the oxygen trapped in his throat as he notices several scattered bruises over Zayn’s hips.

“Fuck,” he whispers, quietly – but Zayn hears.

Liam traces the dark patterns with barely-brushing fingertips, his heart sinking in his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he swallows, unable to breathe. “Zayn –”

“Don’t,” Zayn demands, voice soft but sharp altogether. “Don’t do that.”

Liam frowns, closing his eyes as Zayn kisses into his neck.

“Don’t ruin this,” he adds, whispering, threading his fingers through Liam’s. “You didn’t hurt me at all – I. That was incredible, Liam. _This_ is incredible.”

Liam feels the smile Zayn presses over his skin, the soft of his eyes as he peers up at Liam.

“I love you,” he says happily, his kisses catching beneath the hook of Liam’s jaw. “Okay? That’s the only thing that matters right now.”

Liam turns his head to meet Zayn’s lips, finally breathing as he tastes Zayn on his tongue.

“Okay,” he whispers, noses touching. “I’m sorry, I love you.”

Zayn smiles, eyes soft as he blinks at Liam before straining his neck to stumble out another kiss.

Liam watches fondly as Zayn curls himself into his side, exhaustion faded out over his limbs as he clings to Liam’s body. Liam bites back the laughter tracing his lips as he admires the sleepy expression pressed over Zayn’s features – eyes blinking tiredly and his mouth sighing out a yawn.

“Will you be here in the mornin’?” Zayn asks into Liam’s neck, humming as Liam spreads out the duvet over Zayn’s body, tucking him in carefully.

“Course,” Liam tells him, lips at his temple. “I’ll be right here, love.”

He stays awake until he’s certain that Zayn is asleep – wondering why his mind remains a constant of scattered poetry when he looks at eyes glittering like silken stars and traces every freckle like a dot-to-dot of a constellation on a dark night.

 

|+|

 

He hardly leaves Zayn’s apartment for the next week, except for short visits back home to see the others and to collect blood bags while Zayn is working his shifts in the café.

He’s aware that he’s being clingy, but Zayn doesn’t seem to mind – in fact, he seems content to have Liam practically living with him.

Liam ignores Louis’ teasing remarks when he spends the day with him, and welcomes Harry’s needy hugs while they watch _Love Actually_ under a blanket on the sofa.

It’s worth the pain suffocating his limbs to go home to an exhausted Zayn, curled up on an armchair with his eyes closed and a smile shifting over his lips when Liam slips through the door. Arms outstretched to bring Liam close, a happy sigh breathed into Liam’s neck when he’s carried to bed.

Liam hardly sleeps – finding more productivity in watching the flutter of Zayn’s eyelids and dragging soft kisses over his chest; scared to miss anything.

He falls in love with the way Zayn wakes up – with a wrinkled nose and a frown creasing his smooth skin as he blinks his eyes awake to Liam cosied up against him. Fingers that immediately reach for Liam’s hip, a hefty sigh slipping from chapped lips at the thought of having to get up.

“Mornin’,” Zayn whispers into his pillow, eyes barely open as he smiles fondly and curls a hand into Liam’s hair.

“Hi,” Liam whispers back, nudging his nose against Zayn’s.

He can’t see himself getting used to this – to the swelter of his heart every time Zayn so much as breathes in his direction.

“Are you working today?” Liam asks, inching closer to Zayn and ignoring the sharp sting of discomfort shooting down his throat.

Zayn shakes his head, brushing his lips over Liam’s. “M’ all yours, babe.”

Liam grins, trailing delicate fingertips over Zayn’s hip and down to his thigh.

“I need to go get more blood at some point,” Liam tells him quietly, kissing Zayn’s jaw. “But I can think of other things we can do for the rest of the day…”

Zayn giggles as Liam trails kisses down his neck, eyes flickering shut as he feels Zayn’s pulse beneath his touch.

“Don’t kill me for what I’m about to say –” Zayn begins, cupping Liam’s cheek as he frowns at Zayn’s choice of words. “But, you wouldn’t need to go home if you tried out another way of feeding?”

Liam groans, pulling away from Zayn’s neck and placing his head back onto the pillow.

“Zayn –”

“Leeyum,” Zayn whines back teasingly, kissing over parted lips. “We _both_ know how strong you are, I don’t understand why you aren’t willing to try this.”

Liam sighs, watching Zayn’s eyes blink at his – barely an inch apart.

“I don’t know why you _are_.”

Zayn’s cheeks are stroked a pale pink, his nose wrinkled as he nudges his nose against Zayn’s.

“S’ _intimate_ , or summat – isn’t it?”

“You want me to drink from you because it will be _intimate?_ ” Liam clarifies warily.

Zayn huffs, provoking an amused smile to slip over Liam’s lips.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious about what I taste like?”

Liam almost chokes on a breath, eyes widened as he stares at Zayn.

“Curious?” He questions, trying to keep his voice soft. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I first laid my eyes on you.”

He’s pretty sure it’s a little fucked up that Zayn smiles at that, but he figures they’re not the most conventional couple anyway. 

“And I’m willing to let you, Li,” Zayn whispers, stroking over Liam’s cheek with his thumb. “So _let me_ , babe. I want – I want you to.”

Liam sighs, licking over his lips as he tries to figure out the confusion and curiosity sweeping through his mind.

“Do you really want Ant to be the only one to have tasted my blood?” Zayn adds moments later, a smirk tracing his lips as Liam flutters his eyes open to glare at Zayn.

“I can’t believe you’re _manipulating_ me into drinking your blood.”

Zayn shrugs, giggling over Liam’s lips.

He grins as Zayn pushes himself up to straddle Liam’s hips against the mattress, leaning his elbows either side of Liam’s head. He kisses Liam softly, fingertips gentle in Liam’s hair.

“Please,” he whispers, kissing down Liam’s neck. “Let me be good for you.”

Liam’s eyelashes flutter at that, his cock twitching beneath the duvet.

“I hate you,” he says fondly, grinning as Zayn brushes laughter into the crook of his neck.

He thumbs over Zayn’s hips when he pulls away, sitting over Liam’s waist.

“Do you honestly trust me that much?” Liam asks, biting over his bottom lip as he traces Zayn’s sides with gentle hands.

Zayn nods, smiling. “I’ve never trusted anybody as much as I trust you.”

Liam feels his heart leap, thankful that Zayn can’t hear.

He thinks back to his conversation with Louis; ‘ _there was something in me, something past the desire and urge to carry on sinking my teeth into her artery that_ stopped _me’_ ringing through his mind. He considers it, his mouth practically watering at the thought of tasting Zayn, being that close to him.

Niall has fed from humans for as long as he can remember, without hurting or going too far – but this isn’t any human; it’s Zayn. The thought of harming him is more painful than the ache in his jaw, the unsatisfied need to drink in his throat – but he remembers what Louis had said.

_‘You’re so scared that you’re going to hurt him, but have you ever actually considered that there might be a part of you stopping you from doing just that?”_

He repeats the words in his head, looking at the warmth of Zayn’s eyes. Louis’ right – his love for Zayn is so overwhelmingly strong that he can hardly begin to imagine causing him pain.

Despite the envy it flares through him, Liam thinks of Ant; a vampire much younger than he is, who is able to control his thirst.

“Okay,” he finally whispers, his mouth dry with worry and anticipation. “I – you. _Okay_.”

A grin spreads over Zayn’s lips as he leans down to breathe hotly over Liam’s.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Liam mutters, hitching his hands around the back of Zayn’s thighs as he pins him to the mattress, softly kissing the centre of his throat. “I wanna – yeah, baby. I think I can do this.”

Zayn presses his lips to Liam’s forehead, stroking over his birthmark.

“I _know_ you can do this.”

He turns his head so that Liam’s lips fall against his neck, a frown immediately slipping over Liam’s expression. “What are you doing?”

Zayn looks at Liam, confused. “What?”

“Not the _neck_ , Zayn.”

A giggle is dipped over Liam’s hairline, his fingers smoothing over the broad stretch of Liam’s shoulder blades.

“Why not?” He questions.

“I need to…um, see your eyes,” Liam says shyly. “I need to watch your face to check –”

Zayn kisses him to shut him up. “I’m going to be fine.”

He sighs, trying to clear the scatter of conflicting thoughts in his mind. “Where did Ant…y’ know.”

“My neck,” Zayn tells him quietly, eyes shyly falling from Liam’s and to his hands fiddling with the bracelet wrapped around his thin wrist.

Liam attempts to control his increasing pulse, closing his eyes so that Zayn can’t see the anger dilating his pupils. He shouldn’t be jealous – he didn’t even know Zayn at this point, but the thought of Ant sucking over Zayn’s neck and his lips crawling over soft skin provokes anger and envy through Liam’s veins.

“Hey,” Zayn whispers, stroking his thumbs over Liam’s cheeks. “Come back to me, babe.”

Liam flickers his eyes open, brushing a sigh over Zayn’s lips.

Zayn has a way of doing that; wiring this connection through the both of them to ensure Liam’s mind doesn’t spark elsewhere.

Zayn’s expression is almost unfamiliar as Liam looks over his features, softer and shyer than normal as he blinks from behind long, feathery eyelashes.

“I know I’ve joked about it in the past but Ant is my _friend_ , Liam. I love him like you’d love a brother – like you love Harry, Niall and Louis; but I’m _in_ love with you.”

A small smile trickles over the corners of Liam’s lips, fingers twisting careful touches into Zayn’s hair.

“I want to do this for you, Li,” Zayn adds, smiling. “But I hate the thought of Ant drinking from me while you never taste my blood…that’s. I want to be with you in that way…in _every_ way, Leeyum.”

Liam bites back the whimper clinging to his tongue, kissing over Zayn’s lips instead.

“Are you sure?” He asks in a quiet mumble, eyes watching Zayn’s to check for any signs of uncertainty.

He doesn’t find any, just a softness filtering through caramel irises.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I thought you couldn’t do this,” Zayn tells him, fingers gentle over Liam’s jawline. “I’ll bring you back to me.”

Liam chews over the flesh of his bottom lip, flickering his eyes to Zayn before he mouths down the centre of his chest. He hears Zayn whimper as he wraps his lips around Zayn’s nipple, flicking at the nub with his tongue.

“What are you –”

“Sh, sweetheart,” Liam says softly, raising an eyebrow. “Be good for me.”

Zayn stutters out a breathless moan, watching as Liam trails his tongue down his stomach.

It’s much easier that he’s already naked, Liam pausing as he traces Zayn’s thighs with delicate kisses.

“What about here?” He asks, hiding his smirk as Zayn gasps.

He can’t shake the anxiety tightening his chest, the sharpness of his breath as he feels the flow of Zayn’s blood beneath his lips. He’s determined to make this as intimate as he can, to feel as close to Zayn as he can without his motivations purely to feed.

“Touch yourself,” he instructs tenderly, watching Zayn’s eyes widen.

“What?” Zayn breathes.

“I need a distraction,” Liam whispers, mouthing at Zayn’s skin. “Wanna see you getting y’ self off.”

“ _Liam._ ”

“Go on,” he encourages, biting back the heavy moan as Zayn wraps a hand around himself. “Good boy.”

Zayn whimpers, sliding his thumb over the slippery head.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Liam praises quietly, reaching to tangle his hand with the one Zayn is twisting into the sheets beneath him. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”

Zayn exhales a muffled breath, nodding as he strokes fingers down his length.          

“Yeah – fuck, Liam. I love you.”

Liam smiles fondly, kissing Zayn’s thigh. “I love you, too.”

Zayn’s eyes gaze into his, his teeth biting his bottom lip.

Liam grazes his teeth against Zayn’s thigh, not enough to break the skin but the scratch still wells with blood. He hisses under his breath, swallowing the fire scolding his throat as he flickers a quick look up to Zayn.

“S’ okay,” he whimpers, moaning through breathless lips. “Stay with me, baby.”

Liam feels the veins trickle beneath his eyes, his vision slightly blurred as he watches a drop of blood slide down Zayn’s skin.

He moves closer, brushing his tongue over the tiny wound.

“Fuck,” he whispers, growling quietly.

It’s overpowering, Zayn’s blood warm over the surface of his tongue. It’s nothing like drinking from blood bags, the taste overwhelming as he blinks up at Zayn from behind hooded lids.

A moan choked through Zayn’s lips pulls Liam back, a careful squeeze of his hand keeping him grounded.

“Babe,” Zayn whispers softly, tugging at his lip. “With me, love?”

Liam nods vigorously, trying to steady his pulse.

“You taste… _fuck_ , Zayn.”

“Good?” Zayn asks, a smile caught at his parted lips.

“I need more,” Liam replies breathlessly, still tasting Zayn on his tongue. “Can I –?”

Zayn chokes off a whimper before Liam can finish, nodding as he squeezes at Liam’s hand again.

Liam kisses over Zayn’s skin before sinking his teeth into the meat of Zayn’s thigh, eyes blinking closed in bliss before he’s forcing himself to watch Zayn’s expression.

There’s a part of his brain straining for him to let go, to let the blood flow over his tongue and down his throat without a care in the world, to drink and drink until there’s nothing left – but Zayn whispers Liam’s name so delicately that he focuses purely on the whimpers pouring from his lips.

He traces soft eyes with his own, pausing as he clears his mind and imprints the sight of Zayn spread out naked on the mattress across the blank slate of his thoughts.

“I love you,” Zayn tells him quietly, voice soft and tender as he watches with intrigued eyes.

It keeps Liam close, refrains him from sinking his teeth in further as he feels the warmth of Zayn’s blood soothe the deep ache in his throat. The power surging through his veins is astounding; his entire focus on the blood spilling down Zayn’s skin when he pulls away.

“Leeyum,” Zayn mewls, his brow pinched as he cries out softly.

Liam’s eyes flash to Zayn’s, a moan tumbling from his lips as he chases the crimson trail over Zayn’s skin with his tongue.

The combination of Zayn’s blood on his tongue and the sight of Zayn’s fingers stroking wetly over his cock is too much, Liam stuttering breathless groans into Zayn’s thighs. 

“Baby,” Zayn whines. “Liam –”

Liam squeezes gently at his hand, grinning lazily as he feels the ache in his throat loosen; his limbs a little less painful than before. “S’ okay, sweetheart. Let go, yeah?”

Zayn utters Liam’s name tenderly, lashes fluttering and his head thrown back onto the pillow.

Liam moves up the mattress to kiss along Zayn’s neck as he comes, lips brushing affectionate whispers over his skin until Zayn is sighing, releasing the tension coiled in every muscle.

He noses over Zayn’s cheek until his pulse is a little steadier, his fingers still clinging to Liam’s.

Liam is surprised as he turns his head to kiss over Liam’s lips, immediately pulling away with a disgusted scowl tracing his expression.

“You taste of blood,” Zayn pouts, shivering. “Ew, Liam.”

Liam giggles into the nape of Zayn’s neck, smiling. “I love you.”

He traces fingertips over Zayn’s chest as he hears the increase of his heartbeat at Liam’s words.

“Did I hurt you?” Liam asks in a whisper, humming happily as Zayn shakes his head.

“I hardly felt it,” Zayn whispers back, wrapping an arm around Liam’s waist. “How was it? Do I taste good?”

His voice is teasing, but Liam’s pretty sure there’s curiosity woven into his tone.

Liam growls under his breath, straddling Zayn’s waist in half a second.

“You taste… _christ_ , Zayn. I, you –”

Zayn’s grin spills laughter, reaching to fiddle with the necklace dangling between the two of them. “I’ve got you all flustered,” he observes fondly.

“You’re wonderful,” Liam blurts softly. “Incredible, Zayn. I’m so fucking in love with you.”

Zayn bites over his bottom lip, clinging arms around Liam’s neck as he kisses over his forehead.

“Guess it’s a good job that I’m a bit gone for you, then – yeah?”

 

|+|

 

Liam still feeds from blood bags, but the soft give of Zayn’s skin against his teeth is a constant in his life, too. It’s like they’re _closer_ to one another every time Liam trusts himself enough to taste the warmth of Zayn’s blood on his tongue, to caress his lips over Zayn’s neck between drinking – or to settle between his thighs after he’s eaten Zayn out.

It’s addictive, the way Zayn is so willing to let him take and take – so much so that he often finds his mind clouded by an intense desire to drain every last drop, but Zayn always brings him back. A hand tangling in his hair, a soft whimper; he’s brought back every time.

It’s unthinkable now, a life without Zayn.

The idea of him as a vampire still scares him, how he could decide to leave him, how he has to _die_ before they can secure an eternity together – but he could never forgive himself for letting Zayn go. Every day of his two hundred and twelve years filled with a comforting satisfaction are now those of pure happiness, an excitement to wake up every morning regardless of the overwhelming agony.

He’s not ready to let Zayn go; not now, not ever.

 

|+|

 

Months later, when Zayn tells Liam he wants to be turned – he hardly puts up much of a fight because, selfishly, Liam can’t picture his future without Zayn.

 

|+|

 

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Liam’s voice is a fragile whisper, his fingers shaky as he sweeps a strand of fallen hair from Zayn’s forehead. He’s looking into the depth of Zayn’s eyes, watching the moon filtering through the window flicker silvery light over feathery lashes.

Zayn nods, reaching across the bed to lace his fingers through Liam’s.

“I’m sure, babe.”

Liam looks at him hesitantly, trying to make sense of his scattered thoughts.

“You know you can’t go back to being a human after this, right? You’re going to be stuck like this for eternity,” he clarifies, chewing over his bottom lip.

Zayn squeezes Liam’s hands softly, nodding again.

“I’ll be with _you_ for eternity, Liam.”

A frown catches at Liam’s expression, his jaw tensing.

“Please don’t make this decision based on me,” he whispers, exhaling a sharp breath. “This needs to be about you, Zayn. You have to decide what kind of life you want for yourself.”

Zayn sighs giving a quiet smile, crawling closer to Liam until he’s practically in his lap. He cups Liam’s cheeks with his hands, stroking his thumbs over Liam’s skin.

“I made this decision _before_ I met you,” he says softly, nudging his toes against Liam’s ankle. “I decided this with Ant before I even know you, Li – but the thought of spending forever with you makes this one hundred times more worth it. A thousand, even.”

A small smile shifts over Liam’s lips as he looks at the honesty painting Zayn’s expression.

He leans in to kiss Zayn delicately, snaking an arm around his waist.

“You’re certain that you want this?” Liam asks again. “You know what you’re getting yourself into? You’re ready to experience constant torture, murder, bloodlust, cravings –”

“You’ll get me through it,” Zayn whispers, smiling. “I want this, babe.”

Liam sighs, brushing his nose against Zayn’s as they kiss tenderly.

“If you don’t want to do it, I can wait until Ant comes back from –”

“No,” Liam blurts, instantly shaking his head. “I want it to be my blood that turns you.”

Zayn nods, lips moving over Liam’s neck.

“I want that, too.”

Liam swallows, trying to soothe the scatter of his pulse in his ribcage.

“Zayn?” He asks quietly, meeting answering eyes. “Can we just – can you…”

He cuts off his muffled babbling, wrapping both arms around Zayn’s middle and hooking his chin over his shoulder. He feels the smile buried into his neck, Zayn hiding his face there.

“I’m going to miss having to be all delicate with you because you’re so fragile,” he whispers, eyelids fluttering shut as he listens closely to Zayn’s heartbeat. “And it’s going to hurt so fucking much when your eyes change colour.”

Zayn pours a sigh over Liam’s skin, tightening his grip around Liam’s neck.

“You won’t have to worry about hurting me, though,” Zayn tells him softly, his fingertips brushing over the bristles of hair at the back of Liam’s neck. “And we have forever, Leeyum.”

Liam nods, mumbling out a quiet “Yeah.”

The thought of having no limit to the amount of time he can spend with Zayn is comforting; that he can spend every day of eternity waking up next to the one he loves. He smiles thinking about taking Zayn to all his favourite places, spending their long lifetime travelling the world. The way Zayn’s eyes will light up when he gets his first book published, and so many more after that.

Worry also traces every thought dispersed in his mind; that Zayn will blame him for the pain scratched into his throat and the guilt he will feel if he ever goes too far.

“You’re going to be in so much pain,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “The first year is always the worst.”

He hears Zayn sigh again, nudging his nose into the nape of Liam’s neck.

“I know, Liam. I know what I’m getting myself into, okay?”

Liam chews over the soft flesh of his lip, inhaling the scent of Zayn’s aftershave.

“We’ve been through this a million and one times, but I just want to check,” he mutters, just loud enough for Zayn to hear. “You know that you have to…you have to _die_ in order to be turned? That I have to feed you my blood and then – then I have to…I have to kill you?”

His voice is a shattered whimper, the mere thought of ending Zayn’s life to begin another provoking an overwhelming sadness.

“Yes,” Zayn says tenderly, carding his fingers through Liam’s hair. “I know that, love. I want you to.”

“I don’t,” Liam whispers, sighing. “But I will. If this is what you want.”

Zayn nods into Liam’s neck, fingertips crawling over his spine.

“I’m ready for this,” he assures Liam, pulling away so that he’s looking into Liam’s eyes with a soft smile.

“Now?” Liam asks, slightly afraid.

It seems like forever until Zayn nods, clinging both hands to Liam’s cheeks as he pulls him in, lips brushing a soft “yes” over Liam’s.

Liam takes a moment to trace his eyes over Zayn’s face, watching the flickers of moonlight paling his skin. He’s never gotten used to how beautiful Zayn is; how wonderful everything about this boy is. How beneath the smug, arrogant demeanour is a shy softness; something gentle and warm that Liam admires every single day.

He thumbs over the sharpness of Zayn’s jaw and watches the feathery sweep of his eyelashes as he peers at Liam curiously, lips this alluring cerise and eyes burning bright like a flicker of flames.

Liam steadies his pulse before peeling his arm away from Zayn’s waist, pulling back his sleeve. He sinks his teeth into his wrist, eyes focused on Zayn’s.

A trickle of blood spills from the wound, sliding over Liam’s palm. He swallows the lump in his throat as he shyly gestures it to Zayn, his spare hand cupping Zayn’s cheek as lightly as he can. Zayn kisses his palm with soft lips before his eyes flutter shut, leaning down to drink the dark puddle of blood marking Liam’s skin.

Liam can’t help but smile a little fondly as Zayn wrinkles his nose in disgust, pulling away with a shiver. “No offence, but you taste _disgusting_.”

Despite the circumstances Liam giggles under his breath, using the blanket trapped under his weight to clean his arm. The wound has already healed, any traces of an injury now disappeared.

“You’ll love it soon,” Liam whispers, barely recognising the words as they spill from his lips. “You’ll _live_ for it.”

Zayn nods, still looking a little disgusted as he shifts in Liam’s lap. Liam presses his lips to Zayn’s forehead, pulling away with curious eyes.

“Are you scared?” He asks softly, both thumbs sweeping over Zayn’s skin.

It takes him a moment to answer, but he finally nods eyes shy. “A bit. Are you?”

“Fucking terrified,” he whimpers. “I don’t want to do this to you.”

Zayn looks up fondly, tangling his arms around Liam’s neck and pulling him closer.

They kiss beneath the moonlight cascading over them on the bed. It’s soft at first, Liam mapping out the feel of Zayn’s lips over his own and tasting the lingering flavour of his own blood over Zayn’s tongue. He listens to the increasingly loud whisper of a pulse throbbing in Zayn’s chest, feeling the blink of a heartbeat as he presses soft fingertips over Zayn’s neck.

Their kiss is gentle; careful, until there is a swift escalation of intensity between them, Zayn pressing forward in Liam’s lap and tightening his grip around Liam’s neck. It sends a tremor of nerves along each vertebrae of Liam’s spine – his hands gliding into the softness of Zayn’s hair.

Zayn’s nose knocks against his, eyelashes airy and delicate against his skin. Every brush of their lips is like a whisper; a _drug_ , enticing Liam in and keeping him addicted.

He pulls away with tears brimming in his eyes, several sliding over his cheeks.

Zayn frowns, kissing them away with his lips.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers softly, breath hitched. “Please don’t cry, Leeyum.”

Liam swallows, his chest tightening as he shakes his head.

“I love you,” he says delicately. “I – so fucking much.”

A small smile flickers over Zayn’s frowning expression, hands cupping Liam’s neck.

“I love you,” he whispers back, voice scratchy like he’s about to cry, too. “And I’m going to love you for the rest of my life, babe. The rest of _our_ lives.”

Liam’s mind is conflicted as he thinks of the best way to do this; the quickest and least painful way of stopping Zayn’s heart from beating. He blinks into Zayn’s eyes, every thought interrupted by the stutter of Zayn’s pulse and the fingertips brushed over his skin.

“I don’t know how to do this.”

Zayn kisses him gently, nudging his nose over Liam’s.

“Snap my neck,” he suggests, voice barely a whisper. “It – I won’t feel it.”

Liam nods, breathing shakily as another tear seeps out from the corner of his eye and Zayn’s fingers catch it softly.

He cradles Zayn’s cheeks with shaking fingers, guilt pulsing through every nerve in his body as he looks into warm, caramel eyes.

There are more tears falling easily over his skin now, his bottom lip taken roughly by his teeth.

“I love you,” he whimpers, sobbing.

Zayn’s heartbeat quickens dramatically, fear in his eyes as he looks at Liam softly.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, withdrawing his arms from around Liam’s neck and placing them over Liam’s. “I love you, Liam. I’m going to come back to you.”

Liam knows; knows that by doing this he’s bringing Zayn back to another life, but the guilt hissing over him and the sadness overwhelming his mind at the thought of killing him is too painful.

“I’m going to count to three,” Zayn tells him tenderly, nodding in Liam’s light grip. “Okay? On the count of three, you. Just do it, alright? It’s going to be okay.”

Liam nods, swallowing back the bundle of nerves low in his throat. “Okay, sunshine.”

Zayn smiles, a little wrinkled and nervous – but it’s enough to reassure Liam.

“One,” he whispers, a single tear catching at his lashes as his pulse stutters rapidly, the same as Liam’s.

“Two.”

Liam whines under his breath, keeping it from Zayn’s ears as he tastes salty tears upon his tongue.

His chest is unbelievably tight, his breathing accelerated as he focuses on the warmth of Zayn’s eyes.

“Three.”

Liam’s voice splinters in a whimper, one flick of his wrists and he hears the sharp cracking of bones, Zayn’s body falling ever so slightly until he catches him in a millisecond.

He cups Zayn’s skull, guiding his lifeless body back to the mattress.

It’s almost unbearable to hear the fade of a familiar pulse, Zayn’s heartbeat slowing until it’s gone.

The room is too silent, Liam’s face crumpling into sadness as he lies beside Zayn.

His chest heaves, like his lungs have collapsed – the ache in his body overwhelming as he buries his cries into Zayn’s neck.

It’s suffocating, the ripple of guilt and grief over every thought.

He gently places an arm over Zayn’s stomach, tears tracing paling skin as he kisses Zayn’s forehead with soft lips, fingertips brushing away the strands of hair sprawled messily across his temple.

It feels like a century – a _lifetime_ , the ticking of the clock too loud in Liam’s ears as he counts down the minutes since Zayn has been silent.

He lays a pillow beneath Zayn’s head, threading their fingers together as he watches; waiting.

A breathless gasp escapes from his lips moments later. Zayn’s hand twitches in his.

He traces the soft flicker of eyelashes with cautious eyes, fingertips sweeping over Zayn’s jaw as the familiar heartbeat Liam has longed to hear starts stammering again; a little stuttered at first before his pulse is rhythmic, lips parting with a short breath.

Zayn’s eyes snap open, gazing up at the ceiling. He tilts his head, wincing at the ache his spinal cord triggers.

Beneath the pain suffocating his throat, the agony clinging to every muscle in his body; he smiles, familiar and soft – for Liam.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> A while ago I started writing a second part to 'these fading scars' with the idea that I'd post another 30k or so, but since then I've been suffering from writer's block (again!) and based on current occurrences in my life, I don't think I'll be able to write for a good while. SO... I've decided to upload a second chapter with what I have now, and when I feel like writing again I'll add several more.
> 
> Before anyone asks: I won't be updating regularly and it could honestly be months & months until anything else is published (I suck, sorry!)
> 
> I think that's all; if you decide to read after hearing all of that then I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> PS, I miss you all & hope everyone is well! Xx

_Zayn snarls, fangs bared as he shoves Liam away from him._

_“I hate you,” he growls, tears streaking his cheeks as he glares at Liam with dark eyes, veins trickled over his skin in anger — blood poured over his chin and down his white shirt._

_There are lifeless bodies surrounding him, limbs piled over the carpet and blood staining everything in sight._

_The pain in Zayn’s eyes is torturous, the hatred venomous._

_Liam wants to comfort him, hold him close and whisper reassuring words — but his feet are glued to the floor._

_“This is your fault,” Zayn shouts, his screams piercingly loud in Liam’s ears as he can only stand there and listen to the hurt cries, no words able to leave his mouth. “_ You _did this to me — you made me into a monster.”_

_Zayn flits across the room and buries his fangs into another human; a helpless, agonised pain leaving the woman’s lips as he sucks the life out of her and angrily throws her body to the floor with the others._

_“It_ hurts _, Liam — every fucking second. I feel like somebody is ripping out my throat_ all the time. _”_

_Liam whimpers, the twisted torment of Zayn’s voice sending daggers into his chest._

_“You did this to me and I_ hate _you.”_

Liam wakes with a sharp breath, eyelids blinking rapidly as he stares up at the white ceiling. 

It takes him a moment to adjust; several seconds until he hears the soft splash of water against the bricked pathways, a faint hum of music playing from a market square a couple of miles away. A delicate spill of sunlight pouring through the open French doors at the foot of their bed, the flimsy curtains fluttering in the empty door frame with every fresh sweep of breeze.

Zayn stirs in his sleep on the mattress beside Liam, a gentle breath leaving his lips as he nudges his nose into the crook of Liam’s neck.

“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly, voice thick with sleep as his lips brush over Liam’s skin. “Your heart is beating like crazy.”

Liam chews over his bottom lip, dragging his fingertips along Zayn’s arm. He lowers an uncertain kiss to Zayn’s temple and says nothing, attempting to settle his wired pulse.

“Are you happy?” He whispers moments later, voice soft against the steady increase of people wandering the streets outside — a busy buzz of chatter and energy pouring through the window. 

Liam feels the wrinkle of Zayn’s skin as a frown is buried into his neck, toes brushing against Liam’s beneath the sheets sprawled over them. Zayn’s thigh reaches to straddle Liam’s waist, movements lazy as he tiredly pushes himself up so that he is leaning over Liam’s body. 

He looks at Liam a little sternly, confusion traced to every feature. Liam notices how dark his irises are, baring black as opposed to the usual trickle of honey and caramel; the combination that has Liam unable to look away. 

“What’re you talking about?” Zayn asks after several moments of studying Liam’s face, brows furrowed as his eyes flash from Liam’s to his lips — and back again in a continuous cycle. 

Liam sighs, hands tracing the curves of Zayn’s hips, running down his legs until he rests them at the backs of Zayn’s thighs.

“I, just —“ Liam mumbles, unable to find the words. He sighs, again, before repeating his question. “Are you happy, Zayn?”

Zayn leans his arms across Liam’s chest, edging closer as his frown deepens.

“Of course I am,” he whispers, a small smile appearing over his lips. 

He fiddles with the necklace hanging around Liam’s neck, voice soft as he brushes a cautious kiss over Liam’s mouth.

“I’m here, with you, in Venice, love. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

Liam closes his eyes, steadying his breath as Zayn nudges their noses against one another. 

“I’m happy, Liam. Why can’t you see that?”

Zayn cups Liam’s cheeks with both hands, smiling at the stutter of Liam’s heartbeat. He now understands how it feels to have every touch intensified; every brush of skin enhanced, electrified. 

Liam’s eyelids flutter, until he eventually opens them to look at Zayn. He still feels guilt; hatred that he gave Zayn this life. He knows that Zayn tries to hide it for Liam’s sake — the pain and heightened emotion that comes with being a vampire, but Liam knows it’s always there. 

Zayn’s eyes narrow slightly, analysing Liam’s face like he’s trying to read his thoughts.

“I chose this,” he reminds him softly, lips brushing with every gentle word. “I chose this for myself, and you — you’ve made every second worth it. Every second, Liam.”

Liam nods against the pillow, each movement feeling like sandpaper scratching against his insides. He’s hungry; the need for blood suddenly overpowering every thought. 

“Okay,” he eventually murmurs, reaching to kiss Zayn’s lips. 

Zayn smiles, fingers dragging through the thick hair at the back of Liam’s head. It feels incredible, an appreciative hum pouring from his lips. 

“Now come on,” Zayn says with a grin. “You promised me the world’s best pasta.”

Laughter trickles over Zayn’s neck as a kiss is pressed against his forehead, happiness fading over the guilt and sadness previously endorsing his mind. 

“You’re going to love it,” Liam tells him as another kiss is nestled over his skin — before Zayn is across the other side of the room in less than a second. 

Liam sighs at the loss of contact, pushing up onto his elbows. He can’t help but watch Zayn as he stands in the open doorway, looking out over the balcony and across the calming waters. The morning sun highlights every favourite feature of Liam’s; the golden glow of his skin and the harsh cut of muscles at his waist. Ribs softly prominent amongst a filled canvas of artwork — tattoos stained to flawless skin. 

Liam is behind Zayn in a short moment, arms tangling around his waist. He leans his head on Zayn’s bear shoulder, lips at his jugular. The sunlight beaming down on his skin is so warm and comforting as he listens to the increase of Zayn’s pulse. 

“I just love you,” he whispers, words barely audible against the rush of the stream below them and the chatter of people nearby. “I want you to be happy, always.”

Zayn leans into Liam’s touch before he turns in his hold, arms immediately clinging to Liam’s neck. 

“I know,” he breathes, reaching onto his toes. He hooks his chin over Liam’s shoulder and holds him close, sighing happily. “I love you, too.”

 

 |+|

  

Liam watches Zayn in amusement as he takes a million photos of everything he sees. They stop their slow pace every twenty seconds so that Zayn can snap more shots, mumbling something about ‘filter’ and ‘instagram’ that Liam would be clueless about if it weren’t for Harry updating him on the modern world. 

“St Mark's Basilica,” Liam tells him as they pass the Cathedral that Liam has visited at least twelve times in his existence, taking Zayn’s hand and stroking his thumb over his knuckles to distract him from the crowds of tourists around them. “The most famous church in Venice…it was built in eight-hundred and twenty-eight, and burned in a rebellion in nineteen-seventy-six. It was then rebuilt a couple of years later.”

Liam tears his eyes away from the building for several moments to focus on Zayn; the curiosity distinct in his eyes. 

“Can we get closer?” Zayn asks, flashing a soft smile at Liam. 

He grins, squeezing Zayn’s hand as they walk towards the building, glistens of sunlight falling upon their skin. Liam is thankful for the trip Harry and Niall took to France to track Jade’s bloodline, and how they returned with a daylight ring for Zayn to wear crafted by Jade’s great-granddaughter; it made it easier for Zayn to adjust being surrounded with the normality of his old life.  

“See the detail on the top, just there?” Liam questions, pointing to one of the roofs of the structure. “That’s Venice’s patron apostle St. Mark; hence the name. And the winged lion, beneath — the symbol is representative of Venice.” 

Liam looks over the exquisite detail; the paintings beneath each arc of a dome and every minute carving that he can see so clearly. He barely notices Zayn staring at him, a fond expression drawn to his features. 

“What?” He asks with a smile, eyebrows raised.

Zayn shakes his head, shrugging as he nestles closer into Liam’s side. “Nothin’, just thinking.”

“I’ll show you inside later,” Liam murmurs as Zayn takes several photos of the Cathedral. “M’ starving for now.”

They continue to walk through the city, with Liam noting off famous landmarks and showing Zayn his favourite restaurants and shops. Liam feels so at ease, with Zayn at his side and his favourite place surrounding him.

“I’m going to write a book, one day —“ Zayn tells him as their waitress guides them to a table for two, “—about our travels, starting here.”

Liam grins, thanking the waitress as she offers them a menu. He keeps careful watch on Zayn’s movements as the dark-haired woman leans across the table to pour their drinks, her neck significantly close before she smiles at them and turns away.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” Liam tells him, reaching for Zayn’s hand beneath the table as a distraction. “Japan, Iceland, Australia…name it and we’ll go.”

Zayn’s thumb trails over Liam’s knuckles, soft dimples in his cheeks as he smiles. 

“You really do make the best tour guide,” he teases, squeezing Liam’s hand. 

Liam hears the man to the side of them slice his finger on the corner of the menu before he sees it; and his eyes immediately flash to Zayn. He can practically feel Zayn’s body tense on the other side of the table as a small welling of blood appears on the man’s finger just metres away from them, the scent immediately evident to Liam and uncontrollably strong to Zayn. 

“Zayn —”

“Liam, fuck,” Zayn hisses under his breath, eyes immediately darkening and a trickle of veins crawling over the skin beneath a sweep of eyelashes as he blinks frantically. “I can’t —“

“Hey,” Liam says softly, reaching across the table to take Zayn’s hand that was yanked away from Liam’s moments ago. “Come with me, okay?”

Zayn growls, abruptly standing from the table. “No, I need to —“

“Zayn,” Liam snaps harshly, moving to the other side of the table and grabbing Zayn’s arm with a tight grip. 

He pulls him inside the restaurant, using his strength to keep Zayn at his side. They enter the restaurant’s kitchen and Liam urgently compels the chef to leave while securing Zayn at his hip to maintain him from returning outside.

“Liam,” Zayn hisses again, struggling to escape from Liam’s hold. “The smell…I need to feed — fuck —“

Liam bites into his own wrist, tearing at the skin while watching Zayn’s widened eyes. He gestures his wrist to Zayn, watching the droop of blood pour down his skin. 

“Drink,” he demands softly, an arm still tangled tightly around Zayn’s waist. 

Zayn looks up at him in disbelief, dark eyes narrowing curiously.

“What —”

“Trust me,” Liam whispers, reaching his arm closer to Zayn’s lips. “It isn’t the same as human blood, but it will help the craving until we get back to the apartment.” 

Zayn’s eyes snap from Liam’s to his arm a handful of times, before he finally bows his head and sinks his teeth into Liam’s flesh, eyelids fluttering shut. There’s a sharp sting but hardly any pain, and Liam is too preoccupied watching Zayn drink from him to notice.

Zayn pulls away moments later, tongue sweeping over his bottom lip as he flashes a hesitant look to Liam.

“More,” Liam whispers softly, raising his wrist again. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

Zayn bears his fangs and drinks again, a stifled moan breathed over Liam’s skin. 

“Good boy,” Liam says, dragging his fingers through Zayn’s hair. 

He can’t help the twitch of his dick as he watches Zayn drink from him, the gentle pull of Zayn’s teeth against his skin — and the rough grasp of his fingers latched onto his arm. Blood-sharing is intimate between vampires, and to have Zayn so dependent on him rushes a sudden burst of desire through his body.

Zayn must feel it, too — because when he pulls away there’s a darkness in his eyes, different from before; lustful as he stares up at Liam. Liam pulls his sleeve over his arm and wipes his blood dripping from Zayn’s lips with his thumb, gently coaxing it into Zayn’s mouth. 

Zayn’s eyes snap closed, his tongue flickering over Liam’s skin before he is growling under his breath and forcefully pushing Liam across the room until his back hits the nearest wall. 

An urgent kiss is hurried over Liam’s lips, hands gripping the collar of his shirt as he breathlessly moans into Liam’s mouth, giggling a sigh as his t-shirt is pulled over his head with one swift action. Liam lifts Zayn until his legs are tangled around his waist, and they’re across the kitchen in a splinter of a second, a sharp clatter of saucepans and plates crashing to the floor as Liam places Zayn on top of a counter. 

“You might be as strong as me but I’m still in charge,” he whispers tauntingly, lips catching at Zayn’s earlobe before he trails kisses to the nape of his neck. 

Zayn whimpers, grinning. 

“You sure about that?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, fingertips crawling down Liam’s stomach until his wrist is caught with frantic fingers — Liam lifting his brow to mirror Zayn’s expression.

“Definitely sure,” he says lowly, leaning in to brush his lips over Zayn’s in a teasing kiss before he bows his head to trail his fangs across Zayn’s neck. The idea of hurting Zayn used to frighten him, but it’s different now that he knows he will heal moments later.

He pulls away to watch small droplets of blood roll over tanned skin, and flashes questioning eyes to Zayn’s. He almost moans at the blissful expression clinging to Zayn’s features, eyes darkening as Zayn pulls him closer and tilts his head back against the wall for better access. 

Liam traces the line of blood with his tongue, eyes rolling at the euphoric familiarity of Zayn’s blood over his tastebuds. It’s different to when he was human; no agonising desire to feed and feed, and not as sweet as Zayn’s human blood — but the same addictive and enticing taste as before. 

“Can you…more,” Zayn whispers with fragile words, a hand clinging to the hair at the back of Liam’s head with urgency. 

Liam grins, complying as he brushes his blood stained lips across Zayn’s neck, before gently sinking his teeth into flushed flesh. Zayn moans under his breath, fingers painfully digging into the skin between Liam’s shoulder blades. 

“Fuck,” he utters quietly, head tilted back against the wall as Liam drinks from him. 

He pulls away moments later, licking his tongue over his lips and savouring the sweet taste. The small wound inflicted to Zayn’s neck heals a handful of seconds later, a smear of blood left over his collarbones. 

Zayn’s eyes are a piercing black, unblinking as he stares at Liam’s lips. 

“Fuck me,” he breathes, voice ragged even though they can’t lose their breath. “I need you to — god, Liam.”

Liam bites sharp kisses over Zayn’s lips while quickly unthreading the belt fastened around Zayn’s waist, fingers barely touching the leather before it’s tossed to one side. Zayn growls as Liam moves them across the room, his back slamming against the wall. He grins, fangs bared as he sucks needy kisses over the centre of Zayn’s neck while ripping apart Zayn’s boxers. 

He momentarily pulls away, lifting his hand and gesturing his forefinger to Zayn. His eyes fall shut as he takes Liam’s finger into his mouth, gently sucking. It drives Liam crazy; how Zayn is always so willing to give, and fall obedient under his control.

A sharp intake of breath is caught in Zayn’s throat as Liam brushes his finger over Zayn’s hole, teasing as he rims the muscle with soft touches. 

“I hate you,” Zayn hisses, but paradoxically pulls Liam close with a hand held to the back of his neck. “I could quite literally —“

He’s cut off as Liam nudges his fingertip in gently, lifting an eyebrow at Zayn’s speechlessness. 

“What was that, love?” He questions, twisting his finger and provoking a mindless whimper. 

“Nothing,” Zayn snaps, though he flashes Liam a brief smile before another moan distracts his lips. 

Liam continues to tease, enjoying the soft exhales of breath and the delicate, whispered groans that sing against his ears — until he pulls his hands away altogether.

“What —“ Zayn starts, before they’re across the room in a millisecond, Liam’s arm cradling Zayn’s waist. 

Liam uses his hands at Zayn’s hips to turn him, nudging him forward against the counter.

“Bend over, sweetheart.”

Zayn almost chokes, a shameful ‘fuck’ breathed from his lips. 

Liam bends down onto his knees as Zayn obliges, forearms resting against the cool counter. He roughly grasps ahold of Zayn’s thighs as he brushes a kiss over his hole with his tongue, lightly as he hears Zayn cry his name softly. He pushes his tongue against the tight muscle, taking his time as Zayn usually does with him.

“Shit,” Zayn moans, backing into Liam’s touch. “I can’t — fuck.”

Liam alternates between rimming Zayn’s hole and flicking his tongue deeper, stretching the muscle as he watches vibrations of pleasure arch Zayn’s back. It’s messy and wet, Liam licking deeper and enjoying the sudden reactions his tongue triggers in Zayn. 

A perk of being a vampire is noticing every tiny detail — and Liam marvels at the way Zayn’s bare thighs quiver, and how tiny beads of sweat cling to strands of long hair. 

Though he used to enjoy being as gentle as he could with Zayn when he was human; brushes of soft touches over his skin and delicate kisses that barely caressed his skin, the exhilaration of forcing rough kisses and touches, leaving marks that will soon heal is awfully tempting.

(He also secretly loves how Zayn’s arrogance is reflected in his movements — and how he can show it now that he’s stronger and less fragile beneath Liam’s touch).

“So good for me,” Liam murmurs, smiling as Zayn hums appreciatively at Liam’s praise. “Nearly there, love.”

Zayn’s back arches in pleasure as Liam teases the rim of his hole; lazy, languid strokes of his tongue that have Zayn whimpering under his breath — though of course the sound is poignant to Liam’s senses. 

“Li,” Zayn mutters, hands gripping the edge of the counter until his knuckles are painted pale and the metal is left with fingerprinted indents. “Can you — fuck, Liam —“

“Can I what?” Liam asks softly, pushing up to utter a trail of kisses along Zayn’s spine. 

He replaces his tongue with his fingers, gently stretching out the muscle.

Zayn sighs, glancing over his shoulder as Liam lifts himself from the floor and kisses over the back of Zayn’s neck. 

“Fuck me, babe,” Zayn sighs again, inhaling a sharp intake of air as Liam turns him so that the small of his back is pressed against the cool of the counter. 

“Later,” Liam mumbles, grinning, and wraps his hand around Zayn’s cock — exhaling a shaky breath at the quiet moan falling from Zayn’s lips. “Just want you to come, first.”

Zayn’s brows knit together, but his eyes snap shut as Liam’s thumb brushes over the wet head of his cock, his fingers stroking him off slowly. 

“So proud of you,” Liam murmurs as he leans in and buries his lips in the crook of Zayn’s neck, clinging kisses to his skin. “Outside — you, I can’t believe you did that.”

Zayn smiles, tangling his arms around Liam’s neck and breathing a soft moan into his hair. 

“Think it was more the dirty manipulation that did it,” he breathes shakily. “You should do that more often.”

Liam’s strokes quicken and Zayn kisses a whine over his hairline, lips parted. 

“Definitely not a problem,” Liam whispers, brushing precome along Zayn’s cock. 

Zayn’s heartbeat is unbelievably quick, stuttering in his ribcage, and his muscles tighten with every caress of Liam’s fingers. He comes into the palm of Liam’s hand with a trail of whimpers and curses falling from his lips, soft moans of ‘Liam’ panted over Liam’s temple with breathless lips. 

Liam reaches for a cloth and is pulled back into a needy embrace once he flings it into the bin across the room, Zayn’s arms draped around his torso and dragging him closer.

“Never gonna get enough of you,” he whispers, burying his head against Liam’s chest shyly. 

Liam smiles, tugging at his lower lip. Hardly anything has changed since Zayn turned; he’s still presumptuous, but soft when he’s with Liam. 

“D’ you think we should let them have their restaurant back?” Liam asks, and Zayn splutters a giggle as he lifts his head and surveys the kitchen. 

“Maybe tidy up a bit first,” he suggests while acknowledging several plates smashed over the marble tiles, and a clutter of saucepans staining sauce over the counter tops. 

Liam tosses Zayn his clothes and clears the kitchen of mess in less than thirty seconds, nipping outside to compel the staff to return to the kitchen. 

Tumbles of giggles fall from Zayn’s lips as they hurry outside the back entrance of the kitchen, an arm sneaking around Liam’s waist as he holds him close. 

“Race you back?” Liam suggests, eyebrows raised in challenge. 

Zayn sprints off, calling back a teasing “winner gets to top!” with a trail of laughter filling the air behind him.

Liam purposefully waits several seconds before joining him.

 

|+|

 

After nine weeks of travelling and exploring the majority of European countries, they fly home to England.

Zayn sits on Liam’s lap for the majority of the flight, (a private plane; to which Liam thought would be best) showing him the photos he’d taken throughout their travels.

Liam pays more attention to the smile traced to Zayn’s lips and the soft auburn of his eyes, the gentle touches of his fingertips over Liam’s neck as he scrolls through his camera roll. Liam can’t help but think how incredible Zayn is; how well he’s adjusted to this new life. Aside from a few hiccups here and there; snapping a bartenders neck because she supposedly flirted with Liam and draining several bodies of blood because of cravings, he’s controlled himself with Liam’s help — something that the others were not able to do.

Harry meets them at the airport, and immediately wraps Liam in a tight hug.

“Too long,” he snaps when he finally pulls away, before tugging Zayn in as well. “How could you leave me with Louis and Niall.”

Liam snorts, threading his fingers through Zayn’s as they enter the terminal and are immediately surrounded by people. 

Zayn shifts uncomfortably, jaw clenched. Liam can practically feel the hunger devouring his throat as Zayn squeezes his hand as tightly as he can and huddles closer into Liam’s side. 

“We got a bit carried away,” Liam says apologetically, rolling his eyes as Harry lifts their suitcases onto a trolley. 

They could carry them without any trouble at all, but anything to look less conspicuous and as human—like as possible.

“How did you like Europe?” Harry asks Zayn, flashing him a smile. “I’m sure Liam was an excellent tour guide.”

Zayn laughs quietly, nudging Liam knowingly. “Loved it, Haz. Everywhere we went was incredible.”

“Favourite country?”

“Greece, definitely,” Zayn answers, glancing at Liam with soft eyes.

It was one of Liam’s favourite countries they visited, too; a villa on the beach and moonlit dinners, several nights spent talking under a clutter of shimmering stars.

“Favourite city?” Harry questions, eyebrows raised.

Zayn pauses for a moment, sucking in his bottom lip.

“Budapest,” he answers after several moments. “Or Amsterdam…or Venice. Valencia, maybe? I can’t choose, I loved it all.”

Liam listens to Harry and Zayn chatter about their trip as he loads the suitcases into Harry’s car, frowning when Zayn’s arm sharply recoils from the door handle, and he hesitates before getting in.

“What’s wrong?” Liam asks when he notices the blank expression painted over Zayn’s expression. 

Zayn’s brows knit together and he glances at Liam in confusion. “Nothing, I. I just thought about the car crash,” he says, dazed. “That me family were in.”

Liam places his hand to the small of Zayn’s back, watching him closely. “Are you okay?”

Zayn looks to him again and nods, a confused smile lifting his lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine — it was just weird, s’ all.”

Liam pulls the door open for him and presses his lips to his temple when he passes to get through, smiling as Zayn drags him back for another kiss before continuing his conversation with Harry.

 

 |+|

 

Liam is researching firefighter vacancies while Zayn writes notes into his ring binder on the sofa across the room from him, a murmur of the telly upstairs and Louis playing piano two floors up filtering through their silence.

He can feel Zayn’s eyes on him but keeps focused on the laptop screen, fighting away a smile as Zayn’s breathing becomes a little faster.

In a matter of seconds his laptop is pushed across to the far end of the sofa and Zayn is in his lap, straddling his thighs and clutching at his shirt with fierce fingers. 

“Is it normal that I want you all the time?” He asks lowly, pressing a forceful kiss over Liam’s lips. “I can’t — keep my hands — off of you.”

Liam grins, a soft sigh sweeping through his lips as Zayn’s fingers push up his shirt. 

“Babe, we can’t —“

“Sh,” Zayn mutters, eyes strained to Liam’s lips. He leans in and brushes his smile over the birthmark in the centre of Liam’s neck, wandering kisses over Liam’s jaw.

“I know you’re new at this, but we can hear you,” Niall calls from somewhere in the house, followed by Louis’ laughter.

Zayn groans while Liam muffles giggles into Zayn’s hair, tracing his hips with gentle fingers.

“Being in this house is suffocating,” he whines, sighing over Liam’s skin. He teasingly rolls his hips into Liam’s lap, pressing a kiss to the lobe of Liam’s ear. 

“I need you,” he whispers, barely audible. “I’m hungry and need a distraction.”

Liam sighs, eyes fluttering shut. Zayn’s hands climb his chest, fingertips tracing shivers along his spine. 

He brings his forefinger to his lip and stands from the sofa, hands slipping to Zayn’s thighs as he carries him. They’re in his room in an instant, and Liam practically shoves Zayn into his bathroom.

He locks the door and turns the shower knob, letting water cascade from the head. The next moment he is crowding Zayn against the nearest wall, lifting his shirt over his shoulders. 

“They can’t hear us with the water,” he explains in between kisses, lips hungry against Zayn’s grin.

“Why didn’t I think of that before?” Zayn mutters, eyes following the muscles from Liam’s abdomen and up towards his chest as he rips Liam’s shirt down the middle with one hasty flicker of his hand. 

He pulls Liam closer with hands cradled around the back of his neck, tracing the outline of Liam’s lips with the tip of his tongue, teasingly. 

“We still have your flat, you know?” Liam reminds him once Zayn’s lips are gliding swiftly along his neck, trailing speckles of blood over his skin from the sharpness of Zayn’s teeth. “We could stay there sometimes, since you won’t sell it.”

Liam breathes a muffled moan as Zayn dips his hand beneath the waistband of Liam’s joggers and strokes gentle fingers over the outline of his cock, pulling away from Liam’s neck with a teasing smile.

“I like it here,” he whispers, licking over his bottom lip. “I haven’t felt part of a family in years, babe — but here…”

He fades out, eyes falling from Liam’s. Liam raises Zayn’s head with a gentle hand and kisses him as softly and gently as he can. Amongst the desperation and craving he feels for Zayn, and the shakiness of his breath at Zayn’s hand curled around his cock, he takes a moment to focus on appreciating Zayn with gentle touches. 

“You should tell Harry that,” he eventually says quietly. “You’d definitely be his favourite after something like that.”

“Can we not talk about Harry while my hand is wrapped around your dick?” Zayn grins, humming approvingly when Liam kicks off his joggers and tears away Zayn’s boxers.

He rolls his eyes and drags Zayn into the shower, sighing as the rush of water pours over his muscles. It’s kind of perfect, really; a billow of steam around them but Zayn poignant in the centre, eyelids blinking away the water droplets clinging to his lashes, and how the water soaks his hair over his forehead.

He lets Zayn push him against the cool glass of the shower, smothering a desperate kiss over his lips.

“Wanna hear something funny?” He asks, hands brushing over Zayn’s shoulder bones before they forcefully tangle into the back of his damp hair.

“I’d rather fuck you,” Zayn mutters flippantly. 

Liam kisses along Zayn’s collarbone, lips moving towards his shoulder. “Shut up,” he instructs, biting at Zayn’s skin.

Zayn whimpers but grins, securing a hand to the small of Liam’s back. “What, love?”

“I used to get off in this shower thinkin’ about you,” Liam says, breathing soft laughter against Zayn’s lips. “After I met you, before we were together.”

A half—giggle is brushed over Liam’s stubble, eyes soft as he pulls away. “Really?”

He nods, hesitating as Zayn’s thumb focuses on the head of his cock for a moment. He snaps out of it after noticing the smug expression fading over Zayn’s face. 

“All the time, s’ embarrassing, really.’

“Not really,” Zayn whispers, eyes fond as he looks up at Liam. “I did the same.”

Liam’s forehead creases at Zayn’s statement and he suppresses the moan threatening to break their conversation at the softness of Zayn’s fingers. 

Laughter falls from Zayn’s lips. “Why are you frowning?”

“I just — I don’t know. I didn’t know if you’d feel the same at the time, being human and all.”

 Zayn snorts, kissing over Liam’s lips. “Humans can still be attracted to other people, Liam.”

“S’ that what you were?” Liam asks teasingly, unable to control his fond smile. “Attracted to me?”

“Obviously, you dickhead,” Zayn mumbles, his wrist suddenly quicker as he stumbles his lips over the centre of Liam’s neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Liam hums happily and tightens his grip in Zayn’s hair.

“Are you done feeling sentimental?” Zayn grins over Liam’s lips, eyebrows raised. “I could really do with a shag.”

Liam snorts, kissing Zayn to shut him up.

“Romantic,” he retorts, tracing Zayn’s hole with the tip of his thumb to earn a satisfied whimper.

 

|+|

 

“Do you miss me being human?” Zayn asks curiously — later, when they’re in bed with the duvet pushed to the end of the bed and Zayn’s fingers tracing Liam’s hips.

“Not really,” Liam whispers, eyes watching Zayn’s as they follow his fingers. “I’ll always be attached to human—you, that’s when we met and I fell in love with you— but no. I don’t have to be careful with you anymore — there’s no desire to feed, babe. And I get to keep you forever.”

Zayn smiles and nudges closer, whispering a soft ‘forever’ like he’s pleased with Liam’s answer.

 

|+|

 

Liam is half way through draining a blood bag when he hears a sudden increase in Zayn’s heartbeat from where’s he’s sleeping upstairs — and moments later a sharp breath gasping for air. He places the bag on the counter before he’s in their room in less than a second and frowning at the tears clinging to Zayn’s cheeks. He’s sitting up in bed, eyes stained red and a gentle tremble rippling through his body. 

“Zayn —“

Zayn lifts himself from the bed and reaches out for Liam, tangling arms around his neck.

“Hey,” Liam whispers as Zayn brushes his tears into the crook of his neck, burying his lips into Zayn’s hair.

He can hear the fragmented beat of Zayn’s heart and the quickening of his breath, the soft cries poured from Zayn’s lips so loud in his ears. It puts him on edge; his chest tightening with protectiveness and worry. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks gently, wrapping his arms tightly around Zayn’s torso. He strokes soothing traces of his fingers along Zayn’s spine, one hand carefully pressed to the back of Zayn’s head as he pulls him close.

“I just, I had a dream,” Zayn eventually mumbles, shaking his head against Liam’s neck. “I, the car crash —”

“Sh,” Liam whispers as Zayn begins to choke up again, leaving a soft kiss to his temple.

Zayn pulls away with closed eyes, though Liam can see how they are stained crimson with salty tears. He calms, slightly — with Liam’s palms holding his cheeks, but moments later continues to cry, harder than before.

“Why can’t I stop,” Zayn snaps through thick sobs, barely pausing to breathe as he cries. “I can’t, why — I can’t —”

“Stop talking,” Liam instructs him softly, sweeping delicate thumbs over Zayn’s cheekbones, and then his eyelids. “It’s making it worse, love.”

Zayn hides against Liam’s chest, fingertips digging almost painfully into his back. 

“Everything you’re feeling is heightened,” Liam tells him while soothing his fingertips over Zayn’s neck and along each vertebrae of his spine — hushing him with whispered words. “It’ll pass soon, I promise.”

Zayn hiccups under his breath, soaking his tears through Liam’s t-shirt. 

They stay there, together, until Zayn’s breathing evens out a little — focusing on Liam’s regular heartbeat. He swallows, shaking his head and forcefully brushing away the tears streaked over his flushed skin.

“C’mere,” Liam mumbles, guiding him to the bed and sitting at the foot, pulling Zayn opposite him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Zayn shrugs, reaching for the blanket beside Liam and clutching it to his chest. 

Liam waits patiently, his bottom lip taken by his teeth. 

“I was in the car crash,” Zayn eventually whispers, blinking away salty tears. “I, I couldn't see myself but I knew I was young again — I don’t know, I just know. I was in the crash with me mum and Baba, and all my sisters, and I just felt the car crash and Doniya screaming and then it went black and I woke up.”

His fingers twist into the blanket until he’s tearing a hole through the silky material, a pout trembling his lips as tears fill his eyes again. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, dark eyes wide as he stares at Liam. “D’ you think Harry will mind?”

“Of course not,” Liam says softly, tracing the curve of Zayn’s jaw with the palm of his hand.

He shuffles closer on the mattress, curling an arm around Zayn’s waist while keeping one hand cupping Zayn’s cheek. 

“I’m sorry about your dream,” he whispers, his lips knocking against Zayn’s temple. 

Zayn whimpers under his breath. “It was so real, like I was really there.”

Liam kisses over his hairline, sweeping his thumb over Zayn’s cheekbone. 

“Can I do anything?”

Zayn shakes his head, a small smile trembling at his lips as he looks up at Liam from behind heavy lashes. 

“M’ hungry,” he says quietly, clutching his throat as he swallows. “Are there any bags left?”

Liam nods and stands from the bed, tangling his fingers through Zayn’s and helping him up.

He stops them when they get to the doorway, turning towards Zayn and cradling his face, delicately. 

“I’m so proud of you, you know,” he says fondly, brushing away a stray tear from Zayn’s waterline. “You’ve done so incredibly well with all of this, one thousand times better than any of us did.”

“Because of you,” Zayn says shyly, voice still fragile. 

“It still takes restraint, babe, you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Neither do you,” Zayn retorts softly, pressing onto his toes to whisper a quick kiss over Liam’s lips. “World’s best vampire teacher.”

Liam snorts, kissing Zayn again lightly before walking through the hallway.

Zayn drains several blood bags while Liam throws together breakfast, filling five plates with bacon and eggs. Louis flits into the room the moment the plate is placed onto the table, and the front door slams open with Niall and Harry appearing just seconds later.

Liam brushes a drop of blood from the corner of Zayn’s lips before pressing a kiss to his temple, while Harry mindlessly feeds Niall a forkful of bacon while twisting fingers into the back of his hair.

Louis growls at them, eyes narrowed into slits as he stabs his fork into his breakfast a little too forcefully, cracking the plate. 

“I really need to get myself a girlfriend,” he hisses — and Liam feels so at ease with the laughter echoed around the table, and at how Zayn leans into his side with a warm smile.

 

|+|

 

Liam sits on a barstool in the coffee shop, at the window with the sunlight washing comfortingly over his skin. He watches people passing by outside, focusing on the scents drifting in the small room from outside — but also closely listens to Zayn interacting with his old colleagues at the counter. He can’t help the grin peeled to his lips as he hears Perrie tease Zayn about him, and how Zayn embarrassedly hushes her — knowing Liam can hear from across the other side of the shop.

Liam’s expression changes as he notices a woman walking past outside, a frown immediately creasing his brow. He recognises her, though can’t quite figure out where he knows her from. Long, dark hair and deep brown eyes; diamond earrings hanging from her ears beneath the wave of curls pushed over her shoulders. There is something familiar about her, and Liam could have sworn that she momentarily caught his eye before immediately glancing away.

Zayn interrupts his thoughts by sliding a tray full of food and drink onto the counter in front of him, brushing a hand over his back. 

“Y’ okay?” He questions with concern filled in his golden eyes, his fingers moving to Liam’s thigh. “I could feel how tense you are from across the room.”

Liam looks from Zayn to outside, but the familiar woman is now out of sight.

“Yeah,” Liam mumbles, pulling a smile over his lips. “Fine, I just thought I saw somebody I knew.”

Zayn passes him a sandwich and then sips at his coffee, keeping his fingers tightly over Liam’s thigh.

“An ex?” He teases, an eyebrow raised as he glances at Liam. 

Liam snorts, shaking his head. “None of my exes are from around here.”

Both Zayn’s brows lift this time, impossibly higher than before.

“Where are they from?

“Are we really discussing this?” Liam asks, leaning his head on a hand as he looks at Zayn in amusement. 

“About time, isn’t it? I think we’re far enough in our relationship — considering you’ve, I don’t know…killed me and all. S’ even past ‘until death do us part’ and all that.”

Liam’s eyes narrow into slits and he reaches out to shove at Zayn’s chest. His chair wobbles beneath his weight and he almost falls, earning a smug grin to fall over Liam’s lips.

The sound of Zayn’s amused laughter softens his expression, and he reaches beneath the table to tangle their fingers together.

“What do you want to know?” He asks, biting at the flesh of his bottom lip.

“How many?” Zayn asks while chewing on a sandwich crust, licking over his lips to catch several crumbs. 

“I don’t know, babe. Forty?”

Zayn almost chokes, eyes widening at Liam. “Forty?”

“That’s like, one every six years,” Liam points out, grinning. 

Zayn’s eyes narrow slightly as he chews on the inside of his mouth. “Were any serious?”

“Some,” Liam tells him, shrugging. “We move around a lot — I’ve lived in too many places for anything to work out.”

Zayn cocks his head to one side, almost glaring at Liam.

“Until you, f’ course,” he adds, rolling his eyes. 

“Were any human?” Zayn asks, and Liam notices how tense his jaw is. 

He bites back the smile threatening to spill at Zayn’s jealousy, almost laughing at the hint of darkness dissolving into his honey eyes. 

“Only in the first year,” Liam tells him, biting into his bottom lip until it is painful. “Those didn’t work out for obvious reasons.”

Zayn is silent for a moment, before he squeezes Liam’s hand resting in his lap. 

“You —“

“Yes,” Liam cuts him off before he can finish the sentence, eyes falling. “I…yeah. I’m not proud of that, obviously. I don’t like thinking about that time.”

Zayn leans in closer, nudging a kiss to Liam’s cheek after Liam turns his head to avoid Zayn’s eyes. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, gently turning Liam’s head and brushing another kiss to the corner of his lip. “D’ you wanna hear about my pathetic excuse of a love life?”

Liam smiles slightly and nods, focusing on the dark shade of Zayn’s lips. 

“I only ever went out with one girl,” he explains, snorting. “I liked her all through school, and we started dating after we both finished college.”

“What happened?” Liam asks, sweeping his thumb over Zayn’s knuckles. 

“She broke up with me cause’ she didn’t like that I worked here, and I think she ended up with a lad who had just graduated from doing law somewhere up North.”

Liam feels his chest tighten and a frown immediately slices through his expression. He hates the thought of anyone treating Zayn badly; and thinking about it quite literally makes him want to kill. 

“I took it so badly,” Zayn laughs under his breath while chewing through the other half of his sandwich. “Cried for weeks, watched thousands of sad films, the typical miserable n’ pathetic breakup. Perrie tried to set me up on dates but I refused to go on any.”

“How’d you get over her?” Liam questions, knocking his ankles against Zayn’s.

Zayn smiles, eyes softening. 

“I met you.”

|+|

 

Zayn’s arms are draped around Liam’s neck, eyes closed and body guided by the rhythm of the music heaving powerfully from the speakers. He stumbles a kiss over Liam’s lips, grinning as Liam grips Zayn’s hips and pulls him impossibly closer as they dance amongst hundreds of bodies. 

He can taste the sour flavour of alcohol on Zayn’s tongue as they kiss slowly, softened by the smile Zayn traces Liam’s lip with. His fingertips are gentle at Liam’s neck, eyelids heavy as he clings to Liam. 

“Another drink?” Liam asks against Zayn’s bottom lip, sneaking another quick kiss. 

Zayn nods, withdrawing his arm from around Liam’s neck. “I’m buying this time, though.”

Liam frowns but lets Zayn drag him through the crowd of people. 

It all happens too quickly; the girl bumping into Liam and Zayn’s eyes immediately darkening with anger as she yells an apology over the loud blare of music.

Liam snaps at Zayn and grabs hold of his wrist, but he struggles out of Liam’s grip and launches for her neck. Liam can hear the soft break of skin so clearly — recoiling for a moment as the strong scent of blood hits him.

Zayn pulls away moments later, a dark grin flickered to Liam. He threads their fingers together and pulls Liam closer, smothering a kiss over his lips. 

Liam blinks, tasting the girl’s blood upon his tongue. 

“Taste,” Zayn whispers tauntingly, gesturing to the girl in front of them. 

He can barely move as Zayn compels the girl to stay quiet, unable to focus on anything aside from the blood gliding over his tongue from Zayn’s lips. 

There is blood staining her neck, dripping over her collarbone and Liam has never felt temptation like this. The desire to feed is pulsing through his body on a constant loop, a need to taste the warm, thick liquid on his tongue. 

He bares his fangs, eyelids fluttering as he can practically feel the warmth of the girl’s vein beneath her pale skin. Zayn is watching with eager eyes; his pupils dilated and irises a dark shade of red. 

Liam inches closer, ready to drink — but his eyes flicker to the girl’s face. There is agonised fear trapped across her expression, and though her lips are glued shut, Liam can almost hear the piercing scream that would omit them if she were able to speak.

He pulls away immediately, the echo of music suddenly deafeningly heavy in his ears. 

“No,” he says blankly, staring at the girl stood in front of him, and then at Zayn who is just behind. His voice is a fragile whisper, mind conflicted as his eyes continue to divert between the two.“This is…I can’t — no.”

Zayn steps closer, reaching for Liam, but he pulls away. 

“Go,” he instructs the girl, focusing on her alarmed eyes. She nods and hurries away, and Liam grabs ahold of Zayn before he can follow.

“We’re leaving,” he hisses, and in a matter of seconds they’re outside. 

Liam practically pushes Zayn into a taxi, wiping the blood dried over his lips with his wrist before telling the driver their address.

“Liam —“

“Not now,” Liam snaps, practically growling under his breath. 

Zayn reaches across the seats to thread his fingers through Liam’s, though Liam tears his arm away before any contact is made between the two of them.

“Babe —“

“I said not now, Zayn,” he seethes, jaw clenched as he diverts his attention to the window in attempt to calm himself and prevent the veins crawling along his skin beneath his dark eyes.

They stay silent the rest of the journey, and Liam almost crumbles the taxi door’s hinges as he slams it shut when they arrive at home.

He paces up the driveway ahead of Zayn, unable to control the anger flooding every thought tracing his brain, and the fury gnarling in his veins.

“Liam, please,” Zayn calls out behind him as they enter the house, desperation flooded in his voice as he reaches out for him again.

“No,” Liam snaps, breathless as he turns and glares at him. “That — none of that was okay.”

Harry and Niall appear in the living room doorway half a second later, a combination of confusion and concern traced over their features. 

“What happened?” Harry questions, studying Liam’s face and the anger poured over it. “Are you okay, did —“

“I nearly fed,” Liam hisses, tears uncontrollably welling in his eyes. “From the vein, I. I nearly fed from someone.”

Niall swallows, eyes flickering from Liam to Zayn uncomfortably.

“It was my fault,” Zayn whispers, feet glued to the floor as he looks guilty at Liam even though he talks to Harry. His features are almost unrecognisable from how they were at the club, but Liam tears his eyes away before letting any guilt seep through his anger. “I, I lost control and — I encouraged Liam to, and I. Fuck, Liam. I am so sorry.”

Liam growls, exhaling sharp breaths. 

“It’s okay,” Niall says softly, and at this point Liam isn’t sure he’s talking to. 

“What about this is okay?” Liam barks, his vision almost blurred from the anger radiating from every part of him. “I nearly, fuck, I —“

“Louis and I feed straight from the source,” Niall says calmly, “and you’ve drunk from Zayn before, Liam.”

“That isn’t the point,” Liam almost shouts, ignoring the whimper breathed from Zayn’s lips when he notices the tears streaking Liam’s cheeks. “She was so… innocent. She didn’t choose for me to, fuck. I saw the fear in her eyes.”

He chokes on a sob, and Zayn is at his side in an instant, fingers brushing against his wrist.

“No,” Liam snarls, recoiling. “I can’t, you can’t —“

“I’m sorry,” Zayn whispers, tearing at his lower lip with sharp teeth. “Liam, I’m so fucking sorry — you. I lost control and I never should have…and, I can’t bear you being angry with me —“

“I just need to be alone,” Liam interrupts, forcing his eyes closed. “I’m more angry with myself than with you, I just. I almost hurt somebody.”

Harry walks to his side, curling a protective arm around Liam’s shoulders. Liam flinches but stays unmoving, exhaling a shaky sob. 

“You didn’t, though, Liam. Okay?” Harry whispers comfortingly, guiding him towards the kitchen. “You didn’t hurt anybody, you stopped yourself, babe.”

Liam nods, brushing away the tears falling over his skin. 

He pauses in the hallway when he notices Zayn following behind them, turning to face him but refusing to look as he casts his eyes at the carpet. 

“Can you you please just… for now —“

“Okay,” Zayn whispers, retreating like he can read Liam’s mind. “I’ll be…upstairs. If you need me.”

Liam nods, wandering into the kitchen and taking the blood bag Harry hands him.

“I really am sorry, Liam,” Zayn whimpers, before he flits upstairs and slams the library door closed behind him. 

Liam sleeps in the spare bedroom that night, and before sleep pulls him under — hears Zayn’s “I’m so sorry, Li — I love you so much,” whispered from their room down the hall. 

|+|

 

He wakes late the next morning, feeling the warmth of the sunlight scatter over his skin from the open window, and the morning twitter of birds fleeting outside in the cool, spring air. His eyes sting from salty tears and a dull ache irregularly pounds his head, throat thick and thirsty. 

Zayn is sitting at the side of the bed, a tray of breakfast and a mug of blood resting on the mattress in front of him.

He stays silent for several moments, lip taken by his bottom lip and eyes unsure as he blinks at Liam uncertainly. 

“I didn’t know if you still don’t want to talk to me,” he says quietly, voice soft and hesitant. 

Liam almost smiles at the sweet sound, but keeps his expression neutral as he licks over his lips.

“I thought you might be hungry, and I — I just wanted to apologise, again. You know I would never — I would never purposefully. I know there isn’t really an excuse, but I wasn’t meself, babe. I, I lost it and — I’m just so sorry, Liam. I want to live like you, to never hurt anyone, and I’m so fucking sorry for almost ruining that.”

Liam stays quiet, but frowns as Zayn stands from the bed and paces to the door. 

“I, if you need anything, I’ll be —“

“Zayn?” Liam says faintly, voice a low whisper.

Zayn turns, his expression lifting ever so slightly at hearing Liam’s voice. 

“Yeah?”

Liam pats the mattress beside him, tugging back the duvet. “C’mere.”

Zayn stands frozen, blinking. “Really?”

A small smile traces Liam’s lips as he nods, a half—giggle slipping when Zayn is suddenly lying next to him in less than a millisecond. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers repeatedly as he cradles Liam’s cheeks with delicate hands, noses nudging as Zayn mumbles soft kisses over his lips and skin. “So, so, so, so sorry, babe.”

“It’s fine,” Liam hushes him, brushing his fingers through Zayn’s hair. “None of it was your fault — you’re new to this, you. I shouldn’t have let myself get that close to…”

He cuts himself off and lets his eyes fall, swallowing the sharp throb of his throat. 

“It was a bad idea to go to a club in the first place, I should’ve been more careful.”

Zayn whines under his breath, a stern frown creasing the skin over his forehead. 

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this,” he demands, lifting Liam’s head so that it is level with his. “It isn’t your fault in the slightest.”

“Sorry for getting angry at you,” Liam mutters, avoiding Zayn’s gaze. “I shouldn’t…you actually — you stopped —“

He silences himself with a heavy sigh, eyes flickering shut. So many thoughts are struggling to break free that he doesn’t know where to begin.

“I’m conflicted,” he mumbles, tracing his thumb over the soft curve of Zayn’s raised eyebrow. “I can’t dictate the life you choose to live…if you don’t want to drink from blood bags then I shouldn’t stop you — I. Niall and Louis don’t, I just can’t bear the thought of doing that to somebody — but if you wanted to —“

“But I don’t,” Zayn whispers, cupping Liam’s neck. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, babe. I just, I couldn’t help it, I can’t control it as well as you.”

“Of course you can’t,” Liam breathes, shaking his head. “You’re new, love. It takes years to control it, but you stopped last night. Despite everything I’m actually proud of you for having the control to stop — you’re getting better.”

He’s reminded of several nights following his transformation that Zayn had lost control and satisfied his cravings by taking too much. Several lifeless bodies that Louis buried while Zayn cried in guilt for hours and hours in Liam’s arms. 

Zayn’s eyes close and he nudges his nose against Liam’s, as if he is picturing the same night. 

“I know I signed up for this, but I don’t want to be this way,” he says gently. “I want to be like you.”

“It takes time,” Liam tells him, voice soft. “But you’re already doing incredibly.”

Zayn smiles slightly, brushing a kiss over Liam’s lips. He pulls away when a yawn spreads over his mouth, a grumbled sigh following as he buries his head into Liam’s neck.

“D’ you mind if I sleep for a bit?” He mumbles sleepily, limbs stretching over Liam’s. “I didn’t really get any last night.”

Liam sweeps a hand through Zayn’s fringe as he feels a pang of guilt rush through him.

“F” course,” he whispers, lips at Zayn’s temple. 

He feels Zayn’s smile against the nape of his neck and alternates between running his fingers through Zayn’s hair, and along his spine. He could stay like this for hours, with the warmth of Zayn’s body curled into his own — limbs cradled together almost as if they are one. 

“I love you,” he says, barely audible as his lips brush Zayn’s skin delicately. 

Zayn doesn’t reply, but he sleepily buries a kiss into Liam’s neck in response. 

Liam listens to Zayn’s heartbeat, pulsing regularly as opposed to the frighteningly quick speed it was drumming out last night. His fingertips slip down the back of Zayn’s neck, blindly feeling the fantail stained to the skin there. 

He does the same to the tattoos he can reach for several hours while Zayn sleeps; mapping out Zayn’s skin and tracing every delicate detail of ink. He can’t see the images, but he knows them all by heart. 

The front door opens and closes two floors down, and Liam listens to Harry sweep through the house. He hesitates outside the closed door of the room they're in, and Liam whispers a tiny ‘hey’, barely audible in fear of waking Zayn.

The door is pushed open lightly, a smile slipping over Harry’s lips as he sees Zayn and Liam tangled between the sheets.

“You okay?” He asks gently, his smile growing when Liam nods.

Zayn stirs in his sleep and Liam tenses, continuing to brush his fingers through Zayn’s hair. 

“Don’t beat yourself up over last night,” Harry tells him in a whisper, fingers curling around the doorframe. “It happens, babe — and you didn’t actually do anything wrong.”

Liam smiles, only slightly, but he knows Harry understands. “Thanks, Haz.”

“Do you —“

Harry’s words abruptly stop as Zayn’s pulse suddenly increases and he shifts in Liam’s hold, lips breathing rapidly against his neck.

Liam bites at his bottom lip, sighing as he traces the curve of Zayn’s cheek with the palm of his hand. 

“Babe,” he mutters, lightly shaking Zayn until his eyelids peel open. 

He chokes a gasp, and Liam hates how tears immediately spring to his eyes. He wishes the nightmares would stop, but he isn’t exactly sure what is triggering them.

Zayn swallows and clutches at Liam’s hand beneath the duvet, eyes holding a blank gaze as he stares at the end of the bed. 

“It’s okay,” Liam mumbles softly, wrapping an arm across Zayn’s shoulders. “You’re alright, babe.”

A trembling cry leaves Zayn’s lips and his shoulders sink low, voice a timid whisper when he eventually speaks.

“Same one,” he tells Liam. “Exactly the same as the last few.”

He leans his head onto Liam’s shoulder, eyes flickering to Harry standing in the doorway. A frown is crippling his expression, worry inflicted as he stares at Zayn in concern. 

“Can I do anything?” Liam asks as he nudges a kiss to Zayn’s hairline. “D’ you want anything?”

Zayn waits a moment before nodding, peering up at Liam. His lashes are coated with tears, and Liam feels his heart stutter dejectedly. 

“Blood, maybe? I — my throat —“

“I’ll be right back,” he whispers, cradling Zayn’s face for a moment before he steps out of bed and hurries downstairs. 

Harry is close behind him, reaching out for Liam’s arm as he grabs a bag from the fridge. 

“He’s been having dreams?” Harry questions, brows furrowed as he stares at Liam in confusion. “Since when?”

Liam hesitates before turning the tap and letting water pour rapidly into the sink — drowning out their voices so that Zayn can’t hear. 

“A month, or so,” Liam tells him in a hushed tone, placing the blood bag onto the counter. “They’re the same every time — the car crash that happened when he was thirteen. Says he’s in the back next to his sisters.”

“I thought he wasn’t in the crash?” Harry says with confusion laced to his voice. “His family…I thought they were altogether and Zayn was in his grandparents’ car.”

Liam’s throat feels thick as he thinks about the loss Zayn has suffered, and how much he has had to deal with in his short life. He feels empty every time they talk about it, and can only imagine how Zayn feels.

“He wasn’t in the car,” Liam whispers, noticing the sudden drumming of Harry’s fingers against the marble counter top. “I guess the emotions are just messing with his mind; enhancing his thoughts, perhaps.”

Harry’s eyes narrow slightly before he raises an eyebrow, blinking hurriedly. 

“What are you thinking?” Liam questions, rubbing the back of his neck. Harry’s heart is a little quicker in his chest as he looks across to Liam. 

“You’re sure he hasn’t had dreams like this before?” Harry confirms, teeth tugging at his lip as Liam nods.

“He had nightmares when he was young after the crash; but of the funeral, the police arriving at his house. Not like this.”

“And they’re exactly the same each time? Like, exactly the same?”

“Yes,” Liam huffs, feeling increasingly impatient. “I already told you that.”

Harry reaches for the sink tap and increases the water pressure, eyes wide. 

“What if they’re not dreams, what if they’re memories?” 

Liam stares at Harry blankly, before a sharp frown pierces over his skin.

“What? Zayn wouldn’t lie —“

“No, Liam,” Harry snaps softly, shaking his head. “Remember when Louis started to recollect the memory of me compelling him, and telling him to forget that I’d given him my blood to heal him? After I found him bleeding out on the street? The effect of compulsion wears off once a human is turned into a vampire.”

An intense ringing penetrates Liam’s ears as he listens to Harry’s words, confusion and uncertainty overlapped in his mind as he tries to make sense of it all.

“Why would somebody compel him to forget he was in the car crash?” Liam asks, his lower lip sore from the sharp tug of his teeth against soft flesh. “And who?”

Harry shakes his head, murmuring a sigh. 

“I don’t know,” he says under his breath, shrugging. “I just, I have this feeling. An inkling, I don't know. I don’t think these are dreams, Liam. I can feel it.”

Liam shifts his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably, cupping his hands around his cheeks and letting a whine pour from his lips.

“I could look into it?” Harry suggests quietly, cocking his head to one side. “I can find out where the accident files are kept and look into them, see if anything doesn’t make sense?”

It feels like hours as Liam stands staring at Harry with unease, but he eventually nods.

“Okay — but don’t tell Zayn. He already has too much going on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel like having a chat, I'm sometimes around on [tumblr](http://englandziam.tumblr.com/) xx


	3. Chapter 3

Liam is restless, tossing and turning against the warm sheets suffocating his skin. His breath is heavy and his mind is chaotically clouded with guilt and anxiety. It’s been two weeks since Harry questioned Zayn’s dreams, and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. There are too many thoughts crowded in his head and he feels sick, his throat tight and agonisingly painful with thirst.

He leaves a gentle kiss to Zayn’s temple, careful not to wake him, before leaving their bed and stepping as quietly as he can across the carpet.

He sighs the minute blood slides over his tongue, ever so slightly soothing the bundle of nerves rising in his stomach. He hates the thought of keeping something as big as this from Zayn, but he needs to be sure. The thought of upsetting Zayn hurts even more, and he drinks more blood to steady the shaking of his hands.

His eyes snap open when he hears a light thud from upstairs, and Zayn appears in the doorway of the kitchen moments later. He is rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand, eyes half-closed as he frowns across at Liam.

“Did I wake you?” Liam whispers, looking up at Zayn from where he is sitting.

“I, urm…the blood,” Zayn mumbles quietly, pacing across the tiles and dropping into Liam’s lap. Liam offers him the blood bag, and curls fingers into the back of his hair as he drinks.

“Your breathing was so quick a moment ago,” Zayn says quietly once he’s drained the bag, wiping away a drop of blood stained to Liam’s bottom lip with his thumb. “Are you okay?”

Liam shrugs, forcing a small smile to his lips.

“I had another dream,” he lies, closing his eyes instead of looking at Zayn’s face. It brings him too much guilt.

His cheeks are cradled in Zayn’s hands, soft fingers stroking slowly over his skin.

“Like the ones when we were travelling?” Zayn asks gently.

Liam nods, swallowing tightly.

“What can I do to prove that I’m happy and that I love you,” Zayn whispers sadly, lips almost brushing over Liam’s.

“I know that you do,” Liam says immediately. “I just reckon that deep down I’m still scared that you’re going to change your mind about all of this.”

Zayn shakes his head, tracing Liam’s bottom lip with his thumb.

“Sometimes I feel so low, babe, with the nightmares I’ve been having and the hunger and all of these emotions suddenly screaming at me — but do you know what gets me through? _You_ , Liam. The thought of having you forever.”

Liam leans forward and kisses Zayn, to focus on how soft and gentle his lips are, rather than let the guilt trail after every thought. He tastes blood over Zayn’s tongue and the spearmint toothpaste over his teeth, breathing a sigh over Zayn’s lips.

“I love you,” he mumbles, finally opening his eyes as Zayn pulls away slightly.

Zayn smiles slightly, nudging his fingertips over the birthmark on Liam’s neck. He leans in for a brief moment, noses brushing, before standing and tangling his fingers through Liam’s.

“Bed,” he whispers, squeezing Liam’s hand. “I’ll stay awake with you until you fall asleep.”

 

|+|

 

Liam follows the soft murmur of a melody along the hallway, letting the gentle music fade over every sense until he eventually reaches the room at the end of the corridor. 

The door is open, the curtains pulled wide, and Zayn sitting on the narrow piano bench with his fingers stroking delicately over the keys. Liam leans against the doorframe, watching the concentration painted over Zayn’s features as he plays. He lets his eyes fall closed for several moments, listening to the whispered harmonies and feeling the vibrations of the piano keys brush over his skin in goosebumps. 

His eyelids flutter open moments later to watch the sunlight trickling warm shimmers over Zayn’s skin and lips, and how they highlight the sharp curve of his jaw. 

Zayn pauses, briefly, to turn the sheet of music to the next page, before continuing the melody. 

A smile brushes over Liam’s lips as he remembers the first time they played together, squeezed onto the bench. How he’d been so desperate to kiss Zayn, to feel how soft Zayn’s lips were and to echo affectionate words beneath the piano’s melody. So much has changed since then; he no longer has to place distance between them when he feels too close, or hold back the words he was willing to say for so long. 

He barely notices the music fading and Zayn turning to look at him lingering in the doorway.

“How long have you been there?” He asks, an amused smile quirked his lips. “I only just noticed how loud your heart was beating.”

Liam feels the rush of blood to his cheeks and ducks his head, shrugging. 

“A while,” he mutters, walking towards Zayn and placing his hands on his shoulders from behind the piano bench. “I like this one,” he says, gesturing to the sheets of music on the stand. 

“Me too,” Zayn replies softly, “there’s this one part that I can’t quite keep up with, though.”

Liam lowers his head to leave a kiss to Zayn’s, trailing his fingers over Zayn’s chest.

“Need a break?” He asks, thumb sweeping against the nape of Zayn’s neck with the other brushing over his bottom lip. 

“I’d love one,” Zayn grins, kneeling on the bench and facing Liam in less than a second. 

Liam sighs contently and moulds the palms of his hands to the curve of Zayn’s jaw, kissing over his lips softly and slowly.

A fond smile brushes over his lips as Zayn nudges his nose against Liam’s, before wrapping his arms around Liam’s neck, sighing a yawn against his jaw. He holds him tightly, listening to the regular rhythm of Zayn’s heart pressed against his.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this — to Zayn’s warmth, the shower of adoration he feels whenever he so much as glances in his direction, of _Zayn._

He presses his fingertips into the skin below Zayn’s spine before splaying his palms and holding him closer.

“What you up to?” Zayn asks, words tracing the veins of Liam’s neck. 

Liam shrugs, withdrawing his arms from around Zayn’s waist and trailing his fingertips along Zayn’s chin, letting the bristles of stubble graze against his skin. 

“I might work out for a bit,” he answers, “M’ full of energy this morning.”

Zayn raises his eyebrow, a smirk appearing over his expression — though whatever he is about to say is interrupted by Louis clearing his throat somewhere in the house.

“Don’t you dare respond to that with some kind of sexual reference,” he calls, followed by a cackle of laughter from Niall, and Harry smacking at Niall in the chest telling the two of them to be quiet.

“Knows you too well, babe,” Liam grins, snorting.

He presses his knuckles beneath Zayn’s chin, tilting his head and mouthing a silent ‘later’ before swiftly kissing his lips, softly.

Zayn seems satisfied and hums approvingly, tugging at the bottom of Liam’s t-shirt.

“I’ll help you workout…you’ve been looking a bit out of shape lately,” he teases, poking at Liam’s toned stomach.

Liam rolls his eyes and disappears into the gym, grinning when Zayn enters several seconds after.

“You’re so slow,” Liam mumbles, laughing breathlessly as Zayn pushes him across the room and up against the punch bag.

“I’m perfectly fine with being twenty two years old instead of two hundred, thank you very much,” Zayn retorts, one hand gripping Liam’s neck before he slides both beneath Liam’s vest. His eyes trace his movements before he flickers a quick glance at Liam’s eyes, splitting the material stretched over Liam’s chest in half.

“Unnecessary,” Liam grumbles under his breath, shrugging out of the material now dangling at his arms.

Zayn shrugs, looking pleased with himself as he runs his fingertips over Liam’s bear chest.

“You’d be too hot in it, anyway — just looking out for you, babe.”

Liam snorts, grabbing a pair of gloves from the bench.

He lifts his eyebrows in Zayn’s direction, asking “Are you just going to stand there gawking?”

“Of course I am,” Zayn grins, pacing back until he can sit along one of the benches across the room. “Don’t let me stop you, Liam.”

Liam hits the bag until it is swinging from his hinges and there is sweat matted into his hair and slipping across his skin. He ignores Zayn as best he can, though enjoys the rather static heartbeat drumming against his chest as he watches.

He opens a window before wandering over to his set of weights, tracing the cool metal with his fingertips. Zayn’s heart practically jumps in his chest and Liam flickers amused eyes across the room.

“You’re distracting,” Liam snaps softly, wiping the sweat from his forehead before he lifts one of the weights — twenty times heavier than anything a human could lift.

“Says you,” Zayn mumbles, biting at his bottom lip. “If the others weren’t here I —”

“I’m begging you to leave that sentence unfinished,” Niall asks from several floors up.

Liam breathes a giggle, watching as Zayn smirks.

“Hypocritical,” Zayn calls back, “We all heard Harry sucking you off two nights ago.”

Laughter pours from Louis’ lips from the kitchen and Liam can practically feel the heat of the flush painting Harry’s cheeks from wherever he is in the house. 

When Liam returns the weight to its stand, Zayn is at his side in less than a millisecond.

“I mean it, though,” he says under his breath, barely audible. His fingers sweep Liam’s dripping hair away from his forehead, lips so close that they brush over Liam’s with every word. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

Liam smiles a little breathlessly, sighing over Zayn’s mouth.

“You do that to me all the time,” Liam whispers, pressing the palm of his hand to Zayn’s cheek and stroking his thumb along the prominent cheekbones caressing Zayn’s skin. “All the time, love.”

Zayn smiles and his eyelids flutter closed as he presses a rushed kiss over Liam’s lips. His arms extend to wrap around Liam’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer. 

Liam nudges his tongue into Zayn’s mouth as he slips a hand beneath the waistband of Zayn’s joggers, muffling the almost-moan with his lips as he thumbs over the head of Zayn’s cock. Zayn pulls away and looks up at Liam from thick eyelashes, watching Liam bring a finger to his lips as he takes Zayn in his hand.

Zayn bites harshly at his bottom lip, head rolling back slightly as Liam takes his time, sucking a soft kiss over the centre of Zayn’s neck.

Zayn looks to Liam a little desperately, swallowing as a sharp breath catches in his throat. “I can’t—”

Liam pulls his hand away, huffing a quiet laugh at the disappointment sketched to Zayn’s face. 

"I need a shower,” he says, eyebrows lifted as he watches Zayn. 

Zayn takes Liam’s hand and they’re in their bathroom the next moment.

“You’re pretty fast when you want something,” Liam teases, giggling under his breath at how quickly water cascades from the shower.

Liam pushes Zayn to the nearest wall, tugging down his joggers as he slips to his knees.

“Still need to be quiet,” Liam mumbles following the needy moan slipping from Zayn’s parted lips.

Zayn sighs and rests his head against the wall, eyes downcast and lids hooded as he watches Liam take him into his mouth and lets a content sigh dance over his tongue. 

  

|+|

 

When the sky is a filter of pale tangerine as the sun dips below the horizon, and they’re stretched out across opposite ends of the sofa, toes and ankles touching — from beneath the blanket covering half Zayn’s face, and the low echo of an old Friends episode on the telly, he whispers “I really love you, Li. I don’t think I tell you enough.”

Liam’s heart beats a little faster for a moment and he reaches for Zayn’s hand beneath the blanket, but can’t shake the guilt clinging to his chest at the missing puzzle pieces of Zayn’s past scattered across his mind.

 

|+|

 

Zayn appears in the kitchen holding a pair of trainers that he tugs on before grabbing a blood bag from the fridge. Liam glances to Louis and then to Zayn with raised eyebrows, closing the laptop lid and looking to Zayn in curiosity.

“Going somewhere?”

Zayn looks up with a smile, nodding.

“Me and Nialler are going into town for a bit.”

Liam swallows, keeping quiet as Zayn drains the blood from the plastic coating. He is about to suggest going with them, but is also aware that him and Zayn have been inseparable since he became a vampire; and that perhaps he needs space.

He prevents his eyes from narrowing when Niall enters, instead forcing a smile to his lips.

“Be careful, okay?” Liam tells the both of them, biting at his lip a little too harshly. “I love you, but it’s still early on and —”

“We’ll be fine,” Niall grins, knocking shoulders with Zayn. “I’m totally responsible.”

Louis snorts beside him, eyes still focused on his phone.

“Call me if you need anything, alright? I’ll be here, I can —”

Zayn is across the room in a splinter of a second, cutting Liam off with a sudden but soft kiss to his mouth. Fingers brush against his cheek and Liam sighs, reaching up for another kiss before Zayn can pull away.

“I’ll be fine,” Zayn promises quietly, nose nudging against Liam’s.

The softness of Zayn’s palm against his skin has a smile tugging at his lips, and he kisses Zayn’s knuckles before him and Niall flit out of the room.

Liam sighs again, swallowing the nerves writhing in his stomach.

“Stop worrying,” Louis tells him, “you known Niall won’t let anything happen to him.”

“I know,” Liam says, eventually. “I just, if he hurts someone and I’m not there —”

“He won’t,” Louis replies, shaking his head. “He’s strong, and if anything were to happen Niall would stop it.”

“I know,” Liam repeats. He snatches a blood bag from the fridge and leans against the counter while letting the cool liquid soothe the sharp ache deep in his throat, and the worry cradling each thought. “I just worry about him.”

Louis flashes Liam a smile, resting his phone on the table.

“I know you do,” he says softly, crossing his legs on his chair. “It’s nice to see you happy, Li.”

Liam’s cheeks stain a light pink and he glances at the floor, hiding from Louis’ eyes.

“I mean it,” Louis continues. “Harry and Niall have always been together, in some ways — ever since Niall joined us, really; and I, well I had Eleanor. It didn’t end well but she was in my life, but you. You’ve never found the right person until now.”

Liam swallows, mouth suddenly dry.

“Maybe I was waiting.”

“For him, I know,” Louis smiles. “Funny how things work out like that, like fate, or somethin’.”

Liam tosses the blood bag into the bin and returns to the window seat, watching the trickles of sunlight seep through the glass.

“Do you ever think about…I don’t know, seeing her?” Liam asks, tone gentle as he shoots soft eyes at Louis. “Eleanor,” he clarifies, words quiet. “Seeing how she’s doing?”

“She’s better off without me,” Louis whispers, shaking his head. “I compelled her so that I’d never be in her life again, she deserves that.”

Liam nods, biting at his bottom lip.

Harry walks through the doorway moments later with a beige folder clasped in his hands and a shy smile pursed to his lips. He places it on the table beside Liam and sits in the seat opposite, pushing the file closer.

“What’s this?” Liam asks, a frown swept to his brow — until he opens the file and identifies 'Malik’ printed in several places amongst other words across the page.

His eyes flicker to Harry in confusion and he gulps, feeling the heaviness of his chest. They haven’t discussed anything further about Zayn’s past since Harry first questioned Liam — not that it hasn’t been carved into his mind every day since.

“How did you get this?” He asks, flicking through pages and pages of police statements and medical reports.

He briefly pauses as he notices a photo captioned 'Yaser Malik’, Zayn’s father with harsh wounds inflicted over his skin. He feels sick and quickly turns several pages forward.

“You didn’t really think Niall and I went to Prague for the weekend last week, did you?” Harry says softly, cocking his head to one side. “We went to Bradford, and I took the file from the station there.”

Liam looks at him in awe, before glancing at Louis. “Did you know about this?”

Louis’ jaw tightens and he practically glares at Harry. “No, and I don’t appreciate secrets being kept in this house.”

Harry rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t want anything to seem off, for Zayn’s sake, and I thought it best to wait until Zayn was out of the house before confronting you both.”

Liam breathes a sigh, running his hands over the shiny sheets of paper in front of him.

“Have you looked through this? Did you find anything?”

Harry nods, and Liam notices the increase in his heartbeat. Harry pulls the file back and turns several pages before gesturing it to Liam; fingers tapping a paragraph.

_Victims of crash: Tricia Malik, Yaser Malik, Doniya Malik, Waliyah Malik, Safaa Malik, Zayn Malik._

Liam’s eyes stay focused on the 'Zayn Malik’ at the end of the line, and he doesn’t even notice his palms denting the wooden table before Harry gently pulls his hands away and rests them on top of the paper.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” he breathes, feeling his pulse quicken. “If we’re following the conclusion that he was compelled…it just. None of it makes sense.”

“I know,” Harry murmurs quietly, watching Liam cautiously.

“Niall was looking through the medical records on the way back,” Harry continues when Liam falls silent. His eyes scan over pages of statements until he pauses, and swivels the file back round so that Louis and Liam can see. “It says that after the accident Zayn was admitted to hospital with four broken ribs, a fractured wrist and damage to the back of his skull.”

Liam winces, his chest tightening at the thought.

“But here…” Harry adds, pointing half way down the page, “it says he was discharged the following morning following X Rays which showed a fast recovery.”

Liam frowns, reading over the sentence.

“It’s impossible to be discharged after injuries as severe as those, surely,” Louis mumbles, an eyebrow lifted. “Unless —”

“Vampire blood was used to heal him,” Liam finishes, swallowing.

Harry nods, chewing over his lip. “That’s what we thought.”

Liam whines under his breath, pushing the folder across the table and burying his head in his hands.

“You okay, babe?” Louis asks him, a hand placed between his shoulder blades comfortingly.

Liam shakes his head, sighing. “How in hell do I explain this to Zayn?”

He’s unsure whether he wants to cry or throw up, but instead he leaps up towards the fridge and cures his anxiety with blood. He knows Zayn holds the sadness of his past with him always, and the thought of complicating it sends worried shivers down his spine.

Harry sighs, too, brushing his palm over Liam’s knuckles once he’s settled back at the table.

“Do you reckon you should wait until we know more?” Louis suggests, eyebrows raised. “Perhaps until we can explain all of this.”

Liam shakes his head, letting guilt seep through his veins. “I can’t keep this from him, he’d feel…betrayed if he found out we all knew this about him while he hadn’t a clue.”

“You’re probably right,” Harry mumbles, nodding. “Though it’ll be hard for him to hear, finding out that we kept a secret as big as this would kill him — especially with the heightened emotions he’s feeling as a new vampire.”

Liam bites at his bottom lip until he hears the flesh tear.

“I’ll do it when he gets home,” he whispers, breathing a soft exhale.

His eyes flicker to Harry after several moments of silence, and he turns his hand on the surface to squeeze Harry’s.

“Thank you for finding this,” he says with an unsure smile.

He spends the following four hours pacing around the house, focusing on the softness of he carpet beneath the pads of his feet, and paying specific attention to the music filtering through the house from Harry’s room; to distract himself from the tangled bundle of feelings splintering his mind.

He’s unable to explain the sharp tugging of his chest — not to do with Zayn’s past, but the desire to have Zayn by his side, and the ability to reach out and run his fingers through thick, soft hair — or leave gentle kisses over delicate skin until a fond smile appears over tempting lips. His eyes continuously check the time on his watch and his phone for message alerts, and he grows more concerned as he watches the sunset fade the sky from a pale blue to a cloudless coral; eventually a dark canvas clustered with glittering stars.

The moment he hears tyres scratch familiarly against thick gravel, a swarm of relief relaxes his troubled thoughts and eager limbs. He takes his time wandering down the stairs, and feels a smile melt over his expression as he hears Zayn’s soothing voice in the distance, a little quiet against the rush of rustling wind.

He momentarily pauses when he notices three sets of footsteps, a frown immediately replacing his smile. He’s at the living room window in half a second, eyes narrowing as he sees three bodies approaching in the darkness.

A growl tears from his lips when he sees Ant walking beside Zayn, the familiar cocky grin spread to his lips that is so pathetic when not wrinkled to Zayn’s. Harry is at Liam’s side a moment later, peering out of the glass.

“Who’s that?” He asks, cocking his head to one side.

“Ant,” Liam grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Zayn’s childhood friend and vampire.”

Harry hums, an amused smile quirked at his expression.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you,” Louis notes as he flits into the room, brushing shoulders with Liam. “And for the love of God stop bearing your teeth before Zayn sees.”

Liam huffs and paces into the hallway as keys rattle in the lock and the door is pushed open.

He’s happy to see the joy radiating from Zayn’s growing smile as he sees Liam waiting patiently in the hallway. Zayn places his coat on an empty hook and is in front of Liam the next second, arms immediately tangling around his neck.

Liam relaxes into the familiar mound of Zayn’s body and cups Zayn’s cheeks with gentle hands.

“Hey,” Zayn grins, pecking Liam’s lips.

“Look who we found,” Niall calls from the doorway, an arm curled around Harry’s waist and amusement laced through his tone. "He was camped out in a café waiting 'till it was dark."

"Had to compel the barrister to let me stay past closing hours," Ant grins, laughing.

Liam lifts his head and almost growls beneath his breath at seeing him, but forces a smile, instead.

“Hey,” he mumbles, briefly looking at him before focusing his attention back to Zayn.

“Missed you,” Zayn says quietly, pulling away slightly to peer up at Liam.

His words put Liam at ease, and make him feel a little smug, too — but mostly he’s filled with relief.

He takes a moment to look over Zayn’s face, smiling softly.

“You need blood,” he gently observes, glancing at his dark irises.

Zayn threads their fingers together and pulls Liam into the kitchen. When Liam notices that Niall and Ant hold back, talking to Harry, he cradles Zayn’s waist with tight arms and gestures a soft kiss over his lips, sighing.

“I think it’s a little fucked up how much I missed you,” Liam says quietly, smiling slightly. “You were only gone for five hours.”

Zayn grins, sliding arms around Liam’s neck.

“Niall wanted to stay and get food but I needed to come back,” Zayn admits between kisses, eyelids fluttering as Liam's fingertips glide along his spine. “Felt like I was missing a limb, or summat. I’m guessing it’s a vampire thing — heightened emotions and all... Does it get easier?”

Liam shrugs, raising his hand to cup Zayn’s jaw.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been in love like this,” he whispers under his breath, cheeks flushing.

Zayn smiles fondly, humming approvingly as he kisses Liam.

They’re interrupted by the others, but Liam lets his arms linger around Zayn’s waist just enough for Ant to see.

Zayn picks up on it and rolls his eyes, reaching for a blood bag. He momentarily blasts water from the faucet, long enough to whisper “I don’t know why you’re jealous, you’re the one that’ll be fucking me tonight” so that only Liam, closest to him, can hear.

His words leave Liam with a satisfied smile and he takes a seat at the table, farthest away from Ant as possible.

Zayn lingers against the counter, sipping from the blood bag, before Liam pulls him into his lap. It’s probably a little possessive, but Liam is too focused on listening to the way Zayn’s pulse quickens slightly when he runs his hands against his spine.

“Are they always like this?” Ant asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Louis immediately replies, groaning. “All the fucking time. Living in a house with these four is a fucking nightmare.”

 

|+| 

“Baby.”

Liam listens to the sharp give and take of air breathed from Zayn’s lips as he moans, and lets the sharp sting of Zayn’s nails drawing blood over his back vibrate over his skin.

“Fuck,” Liam hisses, gasping over Zayn’s neck.

His lips crawl down towards Zayn’s collarbone, sucking a wet kiss to the spot that makes Zayn shiver.

“Faster, babe,” Zayn hums, tightening the grip of his legs around Liam’s waist. He leans his head against the shower wall, his marked neck exposed.

Liam’s eyelids flutter as Zayn’s fingertips stroke gently over his scalp before he tugs at Liam’s hair forcefully.

“We’re going to your flat as soon as we can,” Liam mumbles between sharp exhales, breathing a sighing groan over Zayn’s neck as his cock pushes deeper against Zayn’s muscles. “I’m sick of being confined to these four walls.”

Zayn chokes a soft laugh. “S’ this not good enough for you?”

Liam drags his teeth over the centre of Zayn’s neck, grinning at the shocked stutter of a moan slipping from Zayn’s mouth in response.

“You know what I mean,” Liam breathes, gripping Zayn’s thighs more tightly. “I want to hear you, love.”

Zayn whimpers, lips parting breathlessly. “Yeah?”

Liam hums, stumbling a forceful kiss over Zayn’s mouth.

“What else?” Zayn whispers, grinning smugly.

Liam fucks into him faster, smirking when Zayn’s expression falters slightly and an abrupt moan is exhaled.

“Wanna eat you out in bed,” Liam murmurs, lips parted. “Get you all wet, love — watch you get all restless and impatient.”

Zayn’s eyelids are heavy as he watches the movements of Liam’s lips as he speaks.

“Maybe I’ll bend you over the piano,” he whispers.

“That was a gift,” Zayn pouts, before grinning. “I won’t let you defile it.”

Liam snorts, sighing as he twists into Zayn. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

Zayn breathes laughter over Liam’s shoulder, biting down into his skin softly. Blood slides down Liam’s shoulder and Zayn follows the trail with his lips, moaning under his breath.

Liam presses one hand to the shower wall to steady himself as he pushes into Zayn, sighing a groan over his hairline.

“Told you that you’d be the one shagging me tonight, didn’t I,” Zayn smirks, lips faltering slightly as Liam pulls out and thrusts in again. “You’re always so jealous when Ant —”

“Can we not talk about him while I’m fucking you?” Liam strains, jaw rigid as he hoists Zayn up as he slips down in his hold, slightly.

“Don’t see why you care,” Zayn continues, ignoring Liam. He pauses for a moment, eyes screwed shut as Liam pushes in deeper. “I’m yours, babe.”

Liam smiles into the nape of Zayn’s neck.

“I seem to recall you breaking the necks of several women supposedly flirting with me,” Liam whispers, sucking over Zayn’s skin. “M’ not the only one jealous.”

Zayn practically hisses under his breath, digging his nails into Liam’s back sharply.

“They _were_ flirting with you,” he says tightly, sighing. “Ant doesn’t —”

“He’s tasted your blood,” Liam snaps over Zayn’s neck, momentarily pausing to utter a shaky 'fuck’ over flushed skin. “Would you like it if somebody drank from me?”

Zayn growls, gripping Liam’s jaw and pulling his head up to level his.

“I’d kill them,” he admits, eyes suddenly dark and a trail of veins trickling beneath his lashes.

Liam holds Zayn’s thighs in his hands, pressing him further against the shower wall.

“That anger you’re feeling,” he explains, “that’s how I feel whenever I see him, I — all I can imagine is his lips over your neck, drinking from you.”

Zayn gasps as Liam wraps a hand around his cock, thumbing over the crown and watching the way Zayn’s lips part breathlessly and his eyes return to their usual honey.

“I’m sorry,” Liam mumbles after several seconds, momentarily distracted by Zayn’s reaction to his hand caressing his cock. “I can’t help it.”

Zayn, with his hand still holding Liam’s jaw to his, brushes a gentle kiss over Liam’s lips, hushing him.

“I know I’ve acted in jealousy before, too,” he whispers, eyelids fluttering as Liam’s cock stretches out his muscles, deeper now. “But you mean everything to me, and I’d never let anyone drink from me again, Liam. I’m all yours, babe. Forever.”

Liam smiles softly, pushing back the moan splintered in his throat. His heart flutters at the word 'forever.’ A lifetime to trigger laughter from Zayn’s lips, and to map out every freckle and intricate detail of ink stained over flawless skin. To show him the world, or just lie in bed and kiss until their lips are raw.

Liam feels Zayn’s thighs begin to shake in his hands, a rough moan tugging at his bruised lips. He  quickens the speed of his wrist, sucking a soft kiss over Zayn’s collarbone. Zayn’s fingers twist into Liam’s hair, pulling harshly as he lowers a whine across his temple.

“Close, baby?” Liam asks, blinking up at Zayn as water drops down his face, clinging to his lashes.

Zayn hums, sighing as Liam grasps Zayn’s knee and pushes it higher, rocking into Zayn more deeply.

“Fuck,” he cries softly, stammering a lazy kiss over Liam’s mouth. “Li —”

“I’ve got you,” Liam mumbles, smiling as their noses brush. “C'mon, babe.”

Liam works his fingers over the tip of Zayn’s cock, earning a quiet, needy moan as Zayn comes into the palm of Liam’s hand. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get bored of watching Zayn bite his lip, gentle whines pouring over his tongue as frown lines crease his forehead. 

He comes not too long after, groaning into Zayn’s mouth as Zayn clenched around him and brushes soft touches along his neck and shoulders.

Zayn grins lazily, tangling arms around Liam’s neck and pressing as close to him as he can. They stand beneath the cascading water until it runs cold.

Liam wraps a towel around his waist while Zayn tugs on a pair of Liam’s joggers draped across their bedroom floor. Zayn pulls him closer, arms around Liam’s waist as he presses onto his toes to kiss Liam softly. Liam smiles, wrapping Zayn’s torso in an embrace. Zayn has always been so needy and close after sex, ever since their first time when he’d clung to him and asked if Liam would stay.

Fingers are brushed over Zayn’s cheek as they kiss, slowly and softly at first before Zayn whines under his breath and licks his tongue into Liam’s mouth. Liam lowers his hands at the small of Zayn’s back, smiling at the giggle Zayn breathes as Liam’s hands cup his bum.

There’s a knock at the door but Zayn is almost too busy to notice, humming as he continues to kiss Liam.

“S’ open!” Liam calls, turning his head only at the last minute. Zayn’s lips stay at his cheek, nose nudging over his jaw.

Ant stands awkwardly in the doorway, blinking at the two of them before glancing away.

“Harry’s made dinner — I didn’t know if you heard him call because of the, um, water…”

“Thanks,” Zayn smiles in his direction, pecking Liam’s cheek before he finally pulls away. “We’ll be down in a sec.”

Ant backs away and Liam nudges a smile over Zayn’s temple, sighing.

Zayn grabs a pair of jeans from the wardrobe in a splinter of a second, tossing them to Liam before pulling a t-shirt over his head.

“Meet you downstairs,” he mumbles, pressing one final kiss to Liam’s lips before he flits out of the room, leaving Liam feeling breathless and guilty at the thought of the folder hidden in Harry’s room.

 

|+|

 

Ant stays for several days, and Liam becomes restless.

He can’t rid of the images of Zayn’s family members after the crash from his mind; the scarlet scarring and dark blood washed over their faces.

Zayn seems so happy — laughing with Ant and leaving abrupt kisses to Liam’s skin when he least expects it. There is a bright smile clinging to his expression, and Liam can’t bear the thought of destroying it.

 

|+| 

 

He’s sitting in bed, surrounded by crumpled sheets and hundreds of pillows, knees curled to his chest as he watches Zayn sleep. His heart leaps in his chest as he listens to calm sweeps of breath pouring from parted lips, the gentle scrunch of Zayn’s nose and flutter of eyelids every so often, until he sighs into the pillow. 

His hair is pushed messily over his forehead, the longest strands brushing over his lashes, and his lips so pink in the morning light glittering shades of coral and fuchsia into the room. 

He looks so peaceful, and Liam knows he is about to disturb that peace.

“Zayn?” Liam finally whispers, sweeping his fingers along Zayn’s cheekbone. “Wake up, love.”

Zayn muffles a groan under his breath, shaking his head against the pillow.

Liam sighs, crossing his legs on the mattress and pressing his thumb to Zayn’s bottom lip.

“I really need to talk to you, babe.”

Several seconds pass before Zayn’s eyelids peel open slowly, and he squints at Liam, blinking quickly. His arm reaches out and he rests his palm against Liam’s bicep, squeezing slightly.

“Everything okay?”

Liam presses his lips shut, swallowing. He hates the way worry crosses over Zayn’s face and his eyes open wider. He pushes onto his elbows and stares at Liam in curiosity.

“What’s wrong?”

Liam glances into his lap, fiddling with a loose thread hanging from his joggers.

“I need to tell you something,” he whispers, a little shakily, not looking up. “But I don’t want you to be angry with me.”

Zayn frowns deeply, pushing up and kneeling into the mattress opposite Liam.

“Li?” He asks quietly, reaching for Liam’s hands.

“I don’t know how to tell you.”

“You’re scaring me,” Zayn mumbles, chewing on the inside of his lip. “Why would I be angry with you? What for?”

Liam swallows the raw ache of his throat, finally meeting Zayn’s dark eyes.

“Just promise to hear me out, okay? Before you get angry or upset.”

Zayn nods slowly, his forehead creased with frown lines. Liam opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He doesn’t know how to tell Zayn as gently as he can, without hurting him.

“You didn’t…” Zayn begins, words cautious as he glances at Liam. “You didn’t sleep with someone else, did you? Or —”

“What?” Liam cuts him off, staring at Zayn in disbelief. “No, Zayn. No, why would you think that?”

Zayn shrugs, a breathless laugh struggling through his lips.

“I don’t know, I just. That’s the only thing I can think of that would make me upset.”

Liam shakes his head, shuffling closer towards Zayn on the mattress. He strokes his hand over his cheek, a tiny smile lifting his lips.

“I love you,” he mumbles, sighing. “I would never —”

“I know,” Zayn says quickly. “I don’t really know why I said it.”

Liam laughs under his breath before leaning in to press a soft kiss to Zayn’s lips.

“Don’t be upset, okay?” He murmurs when he pulls away, watching Zayn closely.

Zayn nods, cocking his head to one side.

“I’ve… we’ve been keeping something from you,” Liam eventually says quietly. “I didn’t want to burden you with more to worry about, so I thought I’d wait until we had more understanding…”

“Understanding of what?” Zayn asks, the confusion clear on his face.

“The dreams that you’ve been having,” Liam explains, brushing his thumbs over Zayn’s knuckles. “The dreams about the car crash. I…I’m not sure they’re dreams, babe.”

“What do you mean?”

“More like…memories,” Liam whispers, wincing.

Zayn blinks at him, before narrowing his eyes slightly.

“I wasn’t in the crash,” he states blankly. “I was with my grandparents — you know that, why would I lie to you?”

Liam hates the way Zayn’s voice raises slightly, and how his heartbeat quickens with every word.

“No,” Liam mumbles, squeezing Zayn’s hands. “I know you’d never lie, love. I — we think that you might have been compelled.”

“That’s impossible,” Zayn snaps, his voice suddenly fuelled by anger. “Who the fuck would have compelled me?”

“I don’t know,” Liam mumbles, tracing over Zayn’s daylight ring with his fingers.

He waits for a while, until Zayn’s breathing has slowed and his eyes have dissolved a little closer to their normal honey.

“There’s more,” Liam says eventually, shifting nervously on the bed. “Harry, um, he got the file of the crash.”

Zayn stares at Liam for a second, before he’s snatching his hands away from Liam’s grasp and is across the room a moment later.

“He went to Bradford?” Zayn shouts, veins trickling beneath his eyes. “I haven’t even been back since it all happened, I —”

“I didn’t know he was going,” Liam explains, standing from the bed but keeping the distance he knows Zayn needs. “But babe, it says you were in the —”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” Zayn growls, his pulse incredibly quick and echoing loudly in Liam’s ears. “Not yet, I just. I need to be alone…I need to process.”

Liam nods, swallowing. He hates the confusion and anger highlighting Zayn’s features, and wants nothing more than to comfort him with soft touches and apologies.

“Where are you going?” Liam asks gently when Zayn walks out into the hallway.

“The library,” Zayn tells him, and Liam breathes a sharp exhale as he hears how thick Zayn’s throat is; how it sounds before he’s about to cry.

Moments later the library door slams closed and the lock is turned, and Liam strikes out at the nearest wall — leaving the wallpaper cracked and the brick crumpled behind.

He waits for several hours, listening to Zayn’s every movement. He sits outside of the door, back pressed to the wall and eyes closed. He listens to the sharp slam of keys as Zayn writes, and feels tears water his eyes as he practically feels the anger radiating from Zayn’s skin, despite the wall between them.

Several messages light up his phone; from Harry, Niall and Louis asking about Zayn. Liam replies to Harry’s with a short 'I need more time’, before launching his phone across the room and letting it shatter into tiny pieces on the carpet.

He hurriedly stands when the lock is turned, and the door is pushed open moments later.

Zayn appears in the doorway, lip taken by his teeth as he glances to Liam.

“I want to see it,” he says eventually, his voice quiet and shy. “The file, I want to see it.”

Liam nods, inhaling a short breath.

“I’ll go get it, stay here,” he says softly. He momentarily brushes his hand against Zayn’s, and smiles when Zayn doesn’t pull away.

Liam is in Harry and Niall’s room in a handful of seconds; reaching for the folder hidden behind clothes in their wardrobe. He pauses when he reaches the door to return to Zayn and quickly yanks out the photos of his family from after the crash, shutting them in the drawer.

When he returns downstairs, Zayn is sitting on the floor in the hallway, similarly to how Liam was. His knees are pressed to his chest, arms tangled around his legs with his chin resting on top of his knees. He wipes away a tear slipping over his waterline as Liam reappears, releasing a sharp exhale.

Liam has never seen Zayn look so small.

He sits in front of Zayn for a brief moment, flashing him comforting eyes.

“I’m sorry I kept this from you,” Liam finally says, eyes downcast to the file inscribed 'Malik’ in the corner. “I wanted to tell you as soon as Harry showed me, but Ant was here and I…”

Liam trails off, shaking his head.

“There isn’t a way to justify it,” he mumbles. “I love you and I shouldn’t keep things from you, ever. I’m sorry.”

Zayn doesn’t reply, and so Liam places the folder onto the carpet. He stands, blinking down at Zayn.

“Take your time, and I — if you want me, I’ll be right downstairs.”

Liam turns, but is stopped by Zayn’s voice.

“No,” he whispers, watery eyes staring up at Liam. “Stay.”

Liam’s pulse increases significantly, and he’s at Zayn’s side in an instant.

Zayn leans his head onto Liam’s shoulder, and Liam thinks he might explode with the happiness and relief circulating his system excitedly.

He presses a gentle kiss to Zayn’s forehead, letting his lips linger a little longer than necessary.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, voice a frail whisper. Zayn doesn’t answer, just keeps his eyes focused on the folder in front of them.

“I’m scared,” he says blankly, sighing.

“I know,” Liam mumbles, lips gliding over Zayn’s temple. “That’s okay.”

Zayn threads his fingers through Liam’s, squeezing tightly.

“Can you…tell me what you know?” Zayn asks shyly, nodding to the folder. “You said that you thought I was in the crash…I — why do you think that?”

Liam takes the file and turns to the page reciting the members of the crash.

“Your name is here,” he murmurs softly, guiding their linked hands to the passage he’s reading. “The medical records also say that you suffered significant trauma to your skull and ribs.”

Zayn’s brows furrow, and frown lines trace over his expression as though his skin could crack at any moment.

“I was only in hospital because Waliyah was…she was still alive when we got there but then she —” Zayn’s voice cracks and tears flood his eyes, “she died not long after…I was there because of her.”

Liam hushes him quietly, gripping Zayn’s hand more tightly. “I believe you, babe — I do. I just, I think that might be what you were told, sweetheart.”

“But by who?” Zayn asks, voice splintered. “I don’t understand, I didn’t know any vampires at the time.”

Liam shakes his head, feeling tears well in his own eyes. The sharp snap of Zayn’s heart and his trembling limbs echo in Liam’s mind, and it’s as if he can feel Zayn’s pain.

“I don’t know,” Liam whispers, kissing at Zayn’s hairline. “But I’m going to find out what happened, I promise you, Zayn.”

Zayn sniffles into Liam’s shoulder, turning his head to bury his face into the crook of Liam’s neck.

“You said my dreams…that were. I — that means I actually experienced that? The screams and being trapped in the car, and feeling Doniya’s hand reach out for me?”

Liam whimpers under his breath, clutching at Zayn.

“I don’t know,” he repeats, feeling as if his heart is being torn from his chest with the pain he feels seeing Zayn like this; and how Zayn must feel. “We could be wrong, love. Harry just thought —”

“Why did he think that?” Zayn asks, shivering. “Is that even possible? For me to remember after being compelled?”

Liam nods, sighing. “Becoming a vampire reverses any of the effects another vampire could his inflicted when you were in your human form. When Louis was human, he. He’d been stabbed, and was lying on the street when Harry and I found him.”

Zayn pulls away from Liam’s neck, peering up curiously with a deepened frown.

“Harry fed Louis his blood to heal him and compelled him to forget what had happened altogether — but later that night Louis was walking home and the same guys found him again…he’d gotten into some trouble and so they repeated their actions as before.”

Zayn blinks, wiping at his eyes. “They murdered him?” He asks quietly.

Liam nods, dragging fingers into his hair.

“So that means…Harry turned him?” Zayn establishes, lips parted. “I’d always assumed you’d met Louis while he was a vampire.”

“No, babe,” Liam mumbles, smiling softly. “But months after he became a vampire, Lou started to remember how Harry had compelled him after healing him with his blood. That’s why Haz thinks that you were compelled, and why your dreams aren’t just dreams, love.”

“This is so fucked up,” Zayn whispers, leaning his head back onto Liam’s shoulder. “It’s like there’s a whole new part of my life that I haven’t even been involved in.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam replies, lips in Zayn’s hair. “To put this on you. You already have so much going on.”

Zayn shakes his head and sighs.

“I’ll be fine, I have you.”

“Always,” Liam whispers, holding Zayn tightly. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll be here the whole time.”

Zayn nods, brushing a small smile over Liam’s skin. He eventually pulls away, his heart fluttering in his chest. He looks at Liam from behind wet lashes, his lower lip taken by his teeth.

“I think…I think I want to go home. To Bradford.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you're not getting too bored! I'd love to hear what you think, so feel free to leave a comment or message me on [tumblr](http://englandziam.tumblr.com/) xxx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I last posted - I warned you that I'm terrible!  
> To be quite honest, I'm not sure about this chapter at all...I honestly think I'm losing the ability to write. I hope you enjoy it anyway... x

A breath of cool air sweeping through the open window wakes Liam from troubled thoughts about Zayn's hometown. 

It is still dark outside, the sun hidden and the moon leaving gentle reflections over the windowsill, spilling over the pale carpet of their room. Liam slides his fingers across the mattress, reaching for Zayn, but finds the sheets to be cold and empty beside him. 

He presses his lips shut as he searches for a heartbeat, or movement — and smiles tiredly when he notices the turning of a page, followed by a hushed sigh, coming from the library. Lifting himself from the bed, he tugs on a pair of pyjama bottoms and paces down the hallway, as silently as he can to prevent the others from waking. 

He pauses in the doorway of the library, spotting Zayn at one end of the sofa in the corner of the room, just beneath the huge window that displays the cluster of twinkly stars in the velvet sky. Liam leans against the door frame, laughter lines creasing as he smiles; watching Zayn with his glasses say crookedly across his nose and a book open in his lap. A blanket wrapped around his shoulders, several others burying his limbs that are draped across the sofa.

Liam can't help but think of when he first put together this very room; when Zayn was human, and when Liam was falling helplessly in love. He thinks of the surprise painted over Zayn's face when Liam had showed him, and then the happiness — when Zayn had thrown his arms around Liam's neck and held him close, before dragging Liam over to the book shelves and picking out his favourites. They ended up discussing novels until past midnight; Zayn searching for his favourite quotes in each, and explaining how he loved the author’s use of personification, of description — his favourite scenes and interpretations of the characters. Liam, still, could listen to Zayn talk about the things he loves for days on end. 

“Anything good?” Liam asks softly, voice a whisper in the deafening silence of the house. 

Zayn looks up, a small smile at his lips.

“I didn't notice you there.”

Liam walks across the wooden floor and sits on the arm of the chair, farthest away from Zayn's curled up body, mostly hidden from the blankets hiding his limbs. 

“Just rereading some Shakespeare,” Zayn tells him quietly, holding up the front cover of ‘Othello’ for Liam to see. 

Liam can make out the underlined words from where he is sitting; the annotations and scribbles in the margins, and smiles to himself knowingly. 

“Have you packed books?” He asks, tone suddenly cautious as his eyes flicker to Zayn’s. 

There are two suitcases at the foot of their bed, almost ready for Bradford. 

He senses Zayn's anxiety the moment the words slip from his mouth. 

“Not yet,” Zayn whispers, a half smile nudging over his lips. “I thought you could choose for me — give me some recommendations.” 

“Challenge accepted,” Liam grins, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. 

He slides his hand beneath the blankets moments later, in search for Zayn's. He tangles their fingers together, squeezing lightly. “How are you feeling?”

Zayn shrugs, fingertips circling over Liam's knuckles. 

“Nervous, I guess,” he says quietly, eyes falling to stare into his lap. “I haven't been home since I left for my grandparents’ when I was fifteen. After they died I moved into the apartment with the money my family had left me — I didn't want to go back.”

“We don't have to go, if you've changed your mind.”

“I want to,” Zayn confirms under his breath, flickering a tiny smile up at Liam. “Just, be patient with me — okay?”

“Always,” Liam murmurs, squeezing at Zayn's fingers. 

He pulls their hands out from beneath the blankets to press a gentle kiss to Zayn's knuckles. 

“I'll let you read, if you want anything then just wake me up.”

Liam toes across the thick carpet of the hallway, his senses searching for four regular heartbeats in the house — for confirmation that everyone is safe. 

He closes the open window in his and Zayn’s room, before falling against the mattress and pulling the duvet up to his chest. He listens to Zayn’s thumb brushing over words on the page, and the quiet squeak of a pen as Zayn highlights a passage. 

Liam smiles, burying his face into the pillow and breathing silent laughter as he inhales Zayn’s scent stained to the sheets. 

Zayn is everywhere. 

A quarter of an hour later, Liam is about to sink into sleep, when Zayn crawls into bed and up against Liam's body. A warm sigh breathed into his neck, Zayn's arm draped over Liam's waist, pulling him closer. 

Liam kisses the top of Zayn's head, shrugging an arm around his shoulders and the other around his torso — holding him protectively until they fall asleep. 

 

|+|

 

The afternoon sun strokes warmth over Liam’s skin, barely a cloud in the aqua sky. The street is quiet, aside from an owner calling after her dog and the wheels of bicycles crunching over gravel nearby. Liam looks to Zayn, noticing the beams of sunlight glittering over his face and flickering a kaleidoscope of colours from the daylight ring wrapped around his finger. He can’t quite make out the expression on Zayn’s face, though there is a slight pinch to his brow that encourages Liam to thread their fingers together. 

Zayn glances up with a slight smile, eyes unsure as he squeezes Liam’s hand. 

Liam stays quiet but brushes his fingertips over Zayn’s knuckles, listening to the abrupt flutter of Zayn’s heartbeat as it grows quicker. 

The car journey to Bradford had been long and quiet; Liam had made a playlist of his and Zayn’s favourite songs to blast through the speakers, so that Zayn could be alone with his thoughts. Harry had placed a cooler of blood bags in the back of the car, before pulling Liam into a hug, and then Zayn — a little more tightly. 

Zayn pauses, feet grounded as he pulls Liam back.

“I can’t do this,” he mumbles quietly, eyes falling to his feet. He shakes his head, frowning. “I thought I could, but I. I’m not ready.”

Liam looks towards the end of the street, eyes focusing on the aluminium _19_ attached to the brickwork of the house Zayn grew up in. A small building, but one that holds so many memories.

He turns to face Zayn, taking both hands in his own. 

“Let’s go back, yeah? We can take our suitcases up to our room.”

Zayn nods, eyelids blinking shut as he sighs. 

“Hey,” Liam whispers, stepping closer. “Baby steps, okay? If it takes us months, years even, to get to a place where you’re comfortable to look into all of this — then so be it.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of Zayn’s lips, and eventually he peers up at Liam.

“Race you?” He challenges.

Liam raises an eyebrow, and they’re three streets away in just a second. 

 

The Bed and Breakfast Liam had chosen several weeks ago, is in a village just on the outskirts of Bradford. The village is quiet and small, and the cottage quaint, with only two rooms — one of which is unoccupied for their stay. 

“This is nice,” Zayn comments softly as Liam takes their cases from the boot of the car, flashing him a smile. 

Liam looks over the cobbled bricks and the tinted windows; the lilac flower growing along the side of the cottage. The door is a faded white and there is a willow tree just behind the house, causing flickers of light from the setting sun to whisper through it’s branches. 

“You said you’d be fine staying somewhere with humans,” Liam says, tone serious as he looks across at Zayn. “You can change your mind…We can rent a house to ourselves —”

“I’ll be fine,” Zayn interrupts, taking one of the suitcases from Liam. “I want to do this, it’ll only make me stronger, right?”

Liam smiles, always in awe of Zayn’s strength and motivation. “Right.”

They are greeted inside by a middle-aged woman, her hair cropped around her ears and a huge grin spreading to her lips the moment they walk in the door. 

“Hi, I’m Helen,” she says brightly, walking around the counter and reaching for a leather book. 

Liam notices a scar beneath her ear, the jagged line crossing towards the back of her neck. 

“My husband Max is just in the kitchen — he cooks,” Helen explains, eyes flickering between the two of them. “If you wouldn’t mind signing several papers, just confirming your stay, and then I’ll show you on up to you room.”

“Perfect,” Liam smiles, placing his suitcase over the pale carpet and taking the pen Helen holds out for him. 

“Is this your first time in Bradford?” She asks.

“Mine, yes. But —”

“I used to live here, actually,” Zayn answers quietly, a forced smile pushed over his lips. “When I was younger.”

“All done,” Liam interrupts, noticing Zayn’s increasing breathing. “Is there anything more that we need to do?”

“No, no — that’s all, love. Here is your key,” she tells them, sliding it across the desk. “And your room is the first on the left. Shall I call Max to help with your cases?”

“We’ll be fine, thank you,” Zayn says, reaching for his own.

Liam smiles at Helen, taking the key. “Thanks for everything.”

“No problem. Just shout if you need anything.”

 

Once they’re upstairs, Liam leaves their luggage by the door, stretching out his limbs as he looks around the room. It’s small but cosy; dark curtains pulled back over a large window looking over the street outside, sunlight catching at the glistens of gold in the wallpaper. Above the small double bed is a set of shelves, where the classics of Austen, Dickens and Hemingway sit — their covers old and the spines worn. Across the room is a fireplace, not lit but emitting the scent of burning wood and charcoal into the room, beneath the essence of lavender also present. 

He watches Zayn linger by the window, his pulse slightly faster than normal. His fingers are gripping the radiator and denting the metal, until Liam moves across the room and gently pulls them away. A frown creases his brow at the burns scattered across the palms of Zayn’s hands from the heat of the metal, and he breathes a sigh into Zayn’s neck while wrapping protective arms around his waist. 

“Are you alright?” He asks softly, watching as Zayn’s wounded skin soon returns to normal. Liam takes both hands in his own, holding them against Zayn’s stomach. “If this is too much we can get back in the car in the next two seconds and drive straight back home.”

Zayn leans his cheek against Liam’s lips, smiling slightly. 

“I’m fine,” he responds quietly. “It’s just going to take me a while to get used to being back here, s’ all.” 

“Want me to take your mind off of it?” Liam asks softly, fingertips crawling over Zayn’s stomach. 

He nudges his lips over Zayn’s earlobe, gently kissing over his jaw. 

Zayn’s hands squeeze over Liam’s at his waist, and he laughs softly under his breath — but shakes his head. 

“I’m not really in the mood,” he whispers, voice unsure. 

Liam leaves a kiss to Zayn’s cheek before carefully pulling away. Zayn’s head turns far enough for Liam to see the frown creasing his expression, the tiny lines harshening the softness of his skin. 

“I just —”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Liam tells him, fingers tucking Zayn’s hair behind his ears. “Not now, not ever.”

A glimpse of a smile catches at Zayn’s lips, and he steps forward to wrap Liam in a hug. His arms slide around Liam’s neck, face hiding into his chest. Liam’s chin rests on top of Zayn’s head, nose buried into his hair. 

They hold one another for what feels like hours, the room filled with nothing but silence. 

Vampires are quick, but Liam could spend every moment being slow with Zayn. 

“I need to put the blood in the fridge downstairs,” Liam eventually whispers. “There’s an ice box with several bags in one of the cases if you’re hungry now.”

Zayn swallows, chin pressed against Liam’s chest as he tilts his head to murmur a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Thanks, babe,” he says softly, and a millisecond later is across the room unzipping a case. 

Liam snorts, snatching up the box of blood bags by the door and pacing, at a human speed, down the stairs. 

The two owners are in the kitchen when Liam pushes through the door, both with surprised expressions painted to their faces when they see him.

“Guests aren’t supposed to come into the kitchen, love,” Helen says sweetly as she dries a dish with a tea towel. “Is there something we can help you with?”

Liam places his bag on the floor, nodding as he smiles. He takes both of their arms, pulling them gently towards him. 

“I’ll be putting blood in the fridge,” he tells them quietly, narrowing his eyes as his gaze flickers to and from both of them while he compels them. “Don’t tell anyone, and don’t question it.”

Max and Helen both nod, looking slightly confused as they step back, blinking quickly.

“Thank you,” Liam smiles, reaching for the bag and opening the fridge.

“You’ve got a really nice place here, I’m glad I —”

Liam is cut off as an unbearable pain shoots along his spine, something sharp stabbing at the bottom of his back. He turns, vision suddenly hazy as he attempts to make out the two figures in front of him. He tries to reach out, but his muscles are lethargic and the pain is too overwhelming to concentrate. 

A syringe with a long, sharp needle is the last thing he sees before the colour is drained from his vision and everything goes black. 

 

|+|

 

Liam’s eyelids are heavy as he slowly blinks open, eyelashes fluttering at the sudden filter of light flooding his vision. His senses seem to blur into one — every sound muffled and his sight hazy as he pushes up onto his elbows. 

He looks down when he feels soft material against his palms, a duvet beneath his body. His limbs feel like sandpaper scraping together painfully with every movement, muscles worn. 

Liam’s eyes eventually focus, and he immediately sees Zayn on the bed next to him. 

“Thank fuck,” Zayn breathes, swallowing and covering Liam’s hand with his own. “I didn’t know how long you were going to be out, Harry said… fuck —”

Liam stares at him, letting his senses adjust. Zayn’s heartbeat is irregular and beating so quickly that Liam thinks it may burst out of his ribcage any moment now. 

He pushes what he can of a smile to his lips, sighing.

“Vervain is a bitch.”

Zayn breathes laughter, but there is no hint of amusement in his tone.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, you scared the shit out of me,” he scolds, but gently lifts Liam from the mattress and cradles him in a careful embrace. 

Liam smiles into Zayn’s neck, leaning all of his weight against Zayn. He can hardly move, hardly breathe — but he uses every tiny bit of movement he has to grip a hand to Zayn’s waist in comfort.

“I didn’t exactly stab myself in the spine with a vervain-filled needle,” he mutters into the crook of Zayn’s neck, hiccuping a breath. 

His eyelids flutter shut at the softness of Zayn’s hands tracing patterns over his skin, the gentle scratch of nails over his scalp.  

“Does it hurt?” Zayn asks, lips whispered over Liam’s temple. 

“I’m fine,” Liam mumbles reassuringly.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

Liam huffs laughter over Zayn’s skin, smiling at his stubbornness. 

“I’m just weak,” he explains quietly. “I just need time for the vervain to get out of my system.”

Zayn falls silent, continuing to trickle soothing touches along Liam’s limbs. 

Liam listens, squinting as he fails to make out multiple heartbeats in the house. His senses are not perfect, but neither are the paper-thin walls of the cottage. 

He draws away slowly, eyes narrowing at Zayn. 

“Did you—”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Zayn immediately snaps defensively, as if he can read Liam’s mind. 

Liam stutters a groan, pushing away from Zayn. “You _killed_ them?”

“Of course,” Zayn retorts, frowning. “Their heads are very much disconnected from their bodies — and, oh — stop looking at me with your _serious look_. Don’t tell me for a second that you wouldn’t have acted in anger if somebody had hurt me.”

Liam rolls his eyes, but knows there is truth to Zayn’s words. 

“I wanted answers,” he mutters, shaking his head. He leans back against the headboard as a stabbing pain climbs along his spine. “We could’ve removed the vervain that they must’ve been wearing and compelled them into telling us everything they know.”

Zayn shifts on the mattress, sighing. 

“You’re right, that would’ve been a better idea.”

A smile brushes over Liam’s lips, and he pulls Zayn closer. His movements are slow, and he doesn’t have the energy to actually move Zayn, but Zayn follows the guide of his hands to come closer.

“Did you just agree with me? No arrogant remarks or flippant comments?”

Zayn snorts, straddling Liam’s lap with his thighs. 

“I’ll agree with you always from now on if you promise not to get yourself hurt again,” he whispers, smiling slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt fear like that.”

Liam brushes his hand against Zayn’s cheek, stroking his thumb along a prominent cheekbone. A frown creases his brow as tears abruptly flood Zayn’s eyes, several spilling over his skin before Liam catches them.

“I heard your heart fade…it, it _stopped_. I thought that you—”

“Sh,” Liam whispers, cradling Zayn’s skull in his hands. “I’m here.”

“I thought you were dead,” Zayn admits blankly, voice empty. “Your heart, it—”

“I know,” Liam soothes, cutting off Zayn’s nervous rambling. “Vervain weakens us, so my heart would’ve slowed and stopped momentarily. It’s okay, love. I’m not going anywhere.”

Zayn’s eyes blink over Liam’s face, before he leans forward and whispers a gentle kiss over Liam’s lips. Fingers dip below the collar of Liam’s shirt at his neck, noses nudging as Zayn breathes a sigh over Liam’s lips. 

Liam holds Zayn close, feeling Zayn’s tears stain his own cheeks. He kisses back slowly, savouring every taste. 

“Are you okay?” He asks when Zayn pulls away slightly, lips still brushing.

He sweeps a hand over Zayn’s forehead, pushing away several strands of hair.

Zayn nods, swallowing. He exhales a shaky laugh and pecks Liam’s lips. “I’m feeling so many emotions today,” he whispers, leaning back against Liam’s thighs. “I’m excited to be here alone with you, but I can’t shake this…this _feeling._ I don’t know, of being back home, maybe. I haven’t been here since the accident. And then… and then _this._ It’s all…it’s all a bit much.”

Liam continues to run his fingertips through Zayn’s hair, feeling Zayn relax into his touch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes closing. 

Zayn smiles, smoothing his thumb over Liam’s chin. He laughs under his breath, shaking his head.

“Why are you the one comforting _me_ right now? M’ not the one who was attacked.”

A grin shifts over Liam’s lips, before he abruptly begins coughing into the palm of his hand. 

Zayn winces when he sees the blood covering Liam’s skin, and brushes the duvet over his hands to rid of it. 

“Fuck,” Liam hisses under his breath as his limbs begin to burn, his chest too tight as he coughs out more blood. 

Seeing Zayn’s distraught expression makes it even worse; the fear in his eyes and his hand clutching Liam’s tightly.

“What can I do?” He asks desperately. “Please say there is something I can —”

“Blood,” Liam demands softly, shuddering at the burning sensation that is growing stronger by the second. “Please,” he adds, spluttering into the duvet. “It’ll help pass the vervain out of my system.”

Zayn is holding several blood bags in less than a millisecond, tearing the lid with his teeth and gesturing it to Liam’s lips. 

The excruciating pain suffocating Liam’s body fades slightly as he drinks, and he focuses on the gentleness of Zayn’s hand as he holds up Liam’s head and his stammering pulse to ground himself in the moment — rather than letting agony take over.

“Is it helping?” Zayn asks anxiously, clutching Liam more tightly.

Liam ducks his chin in an attempt of a nod, fingers sinking into the duvet and ripping the material into shreds in his palms. “A bit,” he manages, voice seethed between clenched teeth. 

“I wish I was the one experiencing this instead of you,” Zayn mumbles, fingers brushing through Liam's hair. 

Liam shakes his head. “It would have affected you more than me.”

Zayn sighs, lips settling over Liam's hairline. 

“I hate this,” he whispers, fingertips gentle at the back of Liam's neck. “I'm so sorry —“

Liam tilts his head, licking over his lips to remove the blood stained to his skin. “Why are you apologising?”

“This is my fault, we shouldn't have come — I was the one who suggested we do this.”

Liam refrains from rolling his eyes, instead pulling Zayn closer. 

“Nobody is at fault here,” he manages to murmur, turning his head to cough. “I’m already feeling better, anyway.”

Liam can't help but smile at the concern scattered over Zayn's face. His eyes are wide with worry and his lips almost trembling. 

“I’m fine,” he whispers, squeezing Zayn's waist lightly. 

Zayn props several pillows behind Liam's head, leaning him back against the mattress. His movements and touches are so gentle and cautious.

“Do you want more blood?” He asks softly, eyes tracing Liam's face. “Or mine, if you think it'll make you stronger?”

Zayn immediately bites into his wrist, letting blood flow from the wound. Liam shakes his head, muffling a giggle into the pillow as Zayn thrusts his arm at Liam. 

“I'm honestly fine,” he murmurs with a smile. “I think I just need to rest.”

Before Zayn can move, Liam takes Zayn's arm and leaves several gentle kisses to his skin, to rid of the blood staining his forearm. The wound has already healed by the time his lips reach it. 

“Are you comfortable?” Zayn questions, voice urgent and anxious. “I can get you more pillows, or another duvet, or —”

He stops talking when Liam raises his eyebrows in an amusement. “You're fine, got it.”

Liam buries his head against the pillow, exhaling a sigh as he writhes against the soft sheets beneath him. The pain that was earlier suffocating him is now a little more gentle; a dull ache that he is used to with hunger. 

One eyelid is peeled open when he notices that Zayn has not moved from his cross-legged position in the centre of the bed. 

“What're you doing?” 

“Nothin’,” Zayn answers, shrugging and gesturing at Liam. “Go to sleep.”

Liam opens both eyes, frowning up at Zayn. 

“Not until you lie down with me.”

Zayn shakes his head, eyes flickering between Liam and the door. 

“I'm staying awake — nobody else is hurting you in any way tonight.”

Liam snorts, reaching for Zayn's hand. 

“Don't be silly.”

“I'm not,” Zayn scowls. “I'm being practical.”

“You're being overprotective,” Liam says fondly, thumb brushing over Zayn's wrist that was previously wounded. “C’ mere.”

“Liam —”

“I want you here,” Liam whispers, patting the space beside him. “S’ where I'll feel most safe, anyway.”

Zayn looks at him, hesitant, for a moment, before he peels back the duvet and climbs in beneath it. He tucks his head over Liam's shoulder, nudging a soft kiss to Liam's cheek. 

They fall silent, both heartbeats now regular as they lie beneath the peeling ceiling with the fading sunset pouring tangerines and pastel pinks through the window. 

“Where you'll feel most safe,” Zayn eventually whispers with mocking laughter. “Gross.”

Liam kicks Zayn beneath the duvet, the only energy and harm he can muster. 

“What happened to always agreeing with me and not being a cocky bastard?” Liam questions, throat thick with pain. 

Zayn smiles against Liam’s skin. “It got boring.”

Liam snorts, rolling his eyes. 

“Sometimes I wonder why I love you,” he mutters, flickering Zayn a lethargic smile before sleep relentlessly pulls him under.

 

|+|

 

He spends the next couple of days in and out of consciousness, hidden away in the warmth of the small bed with Zayn. There are so many confused thoughts crowded in his head, but he distracts himself by listening to Zayn read aloud; the softness of his thick voice and how every once in a while he pauses to underline a phrase he likes, or to highlight a paragraph and annotate it with handwritten notes.

He focuses on Zayn’s intricate tattoos, the tiny lines calloused to the skin of his hands, every freckle marked to his skin — but he can’t shake the feeling that there is more going on in Bradford than they believed. 

                       

|+|

 

When the setting sun has painted the sky a soft coral, Zayn leads Liam to a field not too far away from the cottage.  

“I used to come here everyday after school,” Zayn tells him, as he sits beneath the oak tree. He pats the ground beside him, smiling when Liam joins. “I’d draw or write, or read. It was nice to get away from everything and be alone with my thoughts.”

Liam stays quiet, but flickers a questioning glance in Zayn’s direction.

“There were so many of us in that tiny house, it was claustrophobic,” he explains, looking out over the far stretch of grass of the field. “Obviously I would have spent a lot more time at home if I’d known that I’d lose everyone in it.”

Liam’s eyes close for a moment. He sighs internally, preventing his head from shaking. He rests his palms into the soil, his fingers touching Zayn’s as he stares at the field, feeling the warmth of sunlight stroke over his skin.

“The kids at school, they were…difficult. I never felt like I belonged there with them.”

Liam listens as Zayn’s pulse increases, thumbs brushing against one another. His chest aches; for Zayn’s past and the loss in his life. They rarely speak about Bradford, of what Zayn’s life was like growing up — he prefers to focus on the future.

“I was creative, which, in their eyes, meant that I was invalid. I was shit at sport, and a lot of them took the piss because my family were practising Muslims. Which is stupid, anyway — considering how high the Muslim population in Bradford is.”

“You could outrun them all, now,” Liam smiles slightly, nudging against Zayn’s side. 

His shoulders shake with silent laughter, and he leans his head onto Liam’s. 

“I had Ant and Danny growing up — they were enough. It still hurt, though.”

Liam knocks his lips against Zayn’s temple, chin resting over the top of Zayn’s head. 

He doesn’t speak, giving Zayn the silence he needs for his thoughts.

“Mum knew about it, but I made her promise to never tell me Baba. He was protective, I. At the time I didn’t want to cause a scene, piss off the other kids more.” Zayn pauses, a cold laugh falling from his lips. “I’ll never forget the expression on her face when she saw the bruise on my jaw, one time. I thought she was going to go beat em’ up herself.”

Liam pushes away the anger circulating in his veins, focusing on the steady rhythm of Zayn’s heart to tie him to the moment, instead of losing control. He nudges his nose over Zayn’s hairline and forces himself not to picture the image of a broken, young Zayn that threatens to blink across his mind.

“She was a strong woman, me mum. I should’ve told her that. She spent her whole life fighting for a better life for us — me and my sisters. It was wasted.”

Liam shuts his eyes, placing his hand over Zayn’s. 

“I wish I could’ve met her,” he says softly. 

Zayn smiles against Liam’s jaw, sighing.

“In an alternate universe we would’ve met in that same coffee shop, and after a couple of months we would’ve introduced one another to our families — maybe I would’ve have stayed at your house over Christmas, and you would’ve stayed at mine over Eid.”

“That sounds nice,” Liam whispers, breathing a fond grin.

Zayn eventually threads his fingers through Liam’s, resting their interlinked hands in his lap. 

“What’re you thinking?” He asks a while later, head tilting on Liam’s shoulder to look up at his face.

Liam shrugs, avoiding Zayn’s curious eyes as he looks out over the wind swept field.

“Do you remember what your family looked like?” He asks softly, brushing his thumb into Zayn’s palm. “I mean, _really_ remember? Every detail?”

“Mostly,” Zayn mumbles. “Sometimes I have to look at photos to be sure that I’m remembering correctly, but for the most part I do.”

Liam smiles at that, nodding. He watches two children throw a frisbee to one another in the distance, listening to their giggles and high-pitched squeals. He sighs, knocking his head against Zayn’s. 

“I wish I had photos,” he whispers, swallowing. “Every day that goes by my memory is worse…I can hardly remember my dad; he worked a lot and I rarely saw him. And now — now I can’t tell if I’m making it up or if what I picture him to look like is real.”

Zayn blinks up sadly, reaching to cradle Liam’s cheek with the palm of his hand.

He doesn’t say anything, but wanders his fingers along Liam’s skin — and it feels just as comforting as any words could. 

They fall into a comfortable silence, before Zayn asks “Do you ever think about what your life would've been like if you didn't turn?”

Liam hums under his breath. “I had it all planned out,” he replies quietly, a murmur of a laugh falling between parted lips. “I would've met a girl, _courted_ her, and then we would marry. With her father’s permission, of course.”

Zayn snorts, watching his fingers trace the veins printed over Liam's wrist. 

“Everything was much simpler back then,” he sighs, shrugging. 

To answer Zayn’s question; yes, he wonders what his life would have been like. Whether he would have replaced his father as a blacksmith, or if he’d see the girl he’d once run into at the bakery again. What life would have held for him if it weren't for the war, and if a stranger had not fed him his blood to cure the bullet wounds buried deep inside his chest. If he had not been shot and killed several hours later, and if Harry had not found him crying amongst several lifeless bodies; friends he’d fought with, their blood now drained. 

Liam snaps his eyes closed as he considers the pain his parents would have experienced receiving the tiny telegram; informing his family of his death. He often pictures the tears welling in their eyes as they read ‘Killed in action’ inked in black over the yellow sheet of paper; how his mum probably told his two sisters the news through uncontrollable sobs. More than two hundred years later and it still sends waves of guilt through his mind; that he lied, that he couldn’t say goodbye. 

“Did you want kids?” Zayn asks, interrupting the thoughts circling Liam’s mind. 

Liam nods, breathing a sigh. “I would've loved to have had children. I probably would have, if the war didn’t happen.”

Zayn smiles slightly and nudges his head into Liam’s neck. 

“Have any of you ever thought about adopting?”

Liam keeps himself from frowning, instead threading his fingers through Zayn's. He's unsure whether this is a reflection of Zayn's own thoughts towards the subject. 

“We've discussed it,” he says quietly. “I’d love to, and Harry in particular — but, I. What kind of life can we promise a child? They would grow old while we would stay young.”

“That’s true,” Zayn whispers, kissing Liam’s birthmark. “We’d lose them, too.”

Liam hates the sadness clinging to Zayn’s tone. He wishes he could provide Zayn with every opportunity; to give them everything he wants in life. Materialistic promises are easy — but others are so much more difficult. 

“Do you…do you ever regret —”

“Not once,” Zayn cuts him off, his tone gentle as he looks up at Liam. “Never. There was no purpose to my life before.”

Zayn presses his fingertips over the frown lines wrinkling Liam's forehead before he is even aware that he is frowning. 

“Those moments, where you catch me staring,” Zayn mumbles, smiling. “I'm looking at you and I’m thinking that I get to spend every moment of forever with you. It triggers a feeling of happiness that I don’t think anything will ever live up to.”

Liam’s heart flutters, pathetically, in his chest, as he looks fondly down at Zayn. He knows that feeling; because he experiences it, too.

“I used to think about having children, in the past. But that was before. You're enough. More than enough.”

He cranes his neck and leans down to press a soft kiss over Zayn's lips. 

“Love you,” he whispers, brushing his nose over the tip of Zayn’s. 

Zayn smiles approvingly, shifting into Liam’s lap. He dusts the soil from his hands and slots his legs between Liam’s on the grass. Soft laughter dances over his tongue, causing Liam to smile.

“What?” He asks fondly, burying his palms into the ground behind for stability. 

“Nothin’, I just remember sitting here and picking out all the hot guys who’d play football on that pitch,” Zayn laughs, grinning up at Liam. “I actually had my first kiss here, right under this very tree.”

“Thank you for that sentiment,” Liam mutters beneath his breath, one eyebrow raised.

Zayn pushes at his chest, his smile unmoving. “I was twelve.”

“How was it?” Liam teases, crinkles traced around his eyes and mouth. 

“Why, are you jealous?” Zayn asks, tongue poking between his teeth. 

He doesn’t give Liam a chance to answer before he is straddling his waist and pushing him back onto the ground, his smile pressed over Liam’s lips.

 

|+|

 

Zayn is pushing him up against a wall the moment they’re back in their room.

Rough fingers grip at Liam’s waist, his neck, his biceps. 

His tongue glides over Liam’s teeth, lips pressing desperately over Liam’s. 

“Forget what I said the other day,” he breathes as a soft kiss is sucked over Liam’s shoulder. “I need you.”

Liam grins, circling his arms around Zayn’s waist and bringing their chests together. 

“Shower?” He asks, laughter falling through his parted lips as Zayn growls and drags his teeth over  Liam’s neck.

“Anywhere but,” he murmurs. When he finally shows his face, his eyes are piercingly dark — but an amused smile is quirked to his bright lips.

“The sofa?” Liam suggests, brushing his nose against the tip of Zayn’s before Zayn hungrily devours a kiss over his lips. “Up against the window? The desk—”

“ _Bed_ ,” Zayn snaps softly, fingers twisting into the collar of Liam’s plaid shirt. 

Liam hums in agreement, moving them across the room and lying Zayn against the mattress in a handful of seconds. “I knew you were a romantic at heart.”

Zayn snorts, nudging his toes down the bottom of Liam’s spine as he wraps his legs around Liam’s waist. 

Liam nudges his nose against Zayn’s, a slow and lazy kiss eased into his mouth.

“I want everything slow,” he whispers in between kisses, already a little breathless. “We rarely get time alone together anymore — I want to take my time with you.”

Zayn lifts his head from the pillow to paint gentle kisses over Liam’s lips. He shivers at the way Liam drags delicate touches down his sides; over his ribs, fingertips marked over his hips.

More kisses are mouthed over Zayn’s skin; buried into the crook of his neck and mapped out over his chest and torso as his shirt is hurriedly tugged over his head. It leaves Zayn’s hair dishevelled, messy strands brushing over his eyelashes until Liam sweeps them away with gentle fingers and a following kiss mumbled over his hairline.

A quiet moan leaves Zayn’s lips as Liam mouths wet kisses lower, tongue tender over every tattoo stained to Zayn’s skin and slowing over his stomach. Liam slides Zayn’s joggers down his thighs, brushing a giggle over Zayn’s skin as they struggle to get them off.

He wants to mouth compliments over every freckle placed to Zayn’s skin, but refrains. He settles for a soft whisper of ‘ _You’re so perfect’_ instead, watching the flush stain Zayn’s cheeks and his eyelids flutter closed in embarrassment.

Zayn whimpers into the pillow when Liam gently palms over his cock through his boxers,

“Li,” he manages, eyelids flitting closed as Liam strokes delicate fingertips over his nipples, nails scratching over his skin. Zayn clutches the sheets until his knuckles are a faded white, Liam’s fingers tugging down his boxers.

He whines desperately as Liam sucks over the head of his cock, lips slicked with spit as he eases on further. He licks along the underside, swallowing down until Zayn’s cock hits the back of his throat.

“Fuck, babe –” he moans while Liam flickers soft eyes up to Zayn.

He licks over the crown before mouthing kisses over Zayn’s thighs. 

A wrecked whimper is breathed above as Liam presses his lips over Zayn’s hole, swirling his tongue. He flicks the tip deeper, smiling as Zayn gasps for air. His tongue sinks deeper as he nudges careful hands around Zayn’s thighs, smiling breathlessly at the gasps permanently clinging to Zayn’s lips. 

Liam continues to swipe his tongue back and forth, every movement unbearably slow as he stretches out Zayn’s muscles and earns impatient whines and moans from above. 

Liam’s stubble scratches harshly over his skin, and Zayn’s hands immediately slip into Liam’s hair as he sinks his teeth into Zayn’s thighs.

When Liam glances up at Zayn, there is a breathless grin eased over his lips. His fingers are gentle as they are dragged over his scalp and then down to his cheeks. 

He’s tempted to sink his fangs further, to drink more, but he eventually stops — pulling away and using his lips to kiss away the droplet of blood sliding down Zayn’s thigh. 

With both hands cupping Liam’s cheeks, Zayn guides him up his body, lips parted and breathing heavy as he blinks his dark eyes into Liam’s. Liam nudges a soft kiss over his mouth, giggling quietly as Zayn flinches upon tasting his own blood. 

“I forgot — sorry,” Liam mumbles with a smile, gripping Zayn’s hips with the palms of his hands. 

Zayn grins, shaking his head.

“I don’t care,” he whispers, laughing over Liam’s lips. 

His fingers work quickly to rid of Liam’s joggers and boxers, a content hum thick at the back of his throat as Liam distracts him by coaxing kisses down his neck.

“Want you loud,” Liam breathes roughly. “S’ nobody here to hear us.”

Zayn whimpers around a moan, but teases a soft _‘So_ demanding _, Liam’_ over Liam’s jaw.

Liam eases his cock over Zayn’s hole, nudging the slippery head over the reddened skin in response.

“Liam,” Zayn whines, frowning. “Babe —”

Liam waits, fingertips careful at Zayn’s hips and lips soft over his shoulder. “Slow, remember?”

Zayn huffs, hands sliding over Liam’s shoulder blades.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

Liam smothers a kiss over Zayn’s mouth when he rolls his hips, pushing in slowly.

Zayn stutters, smiling and tipping his head back into the pillow.

Slow and tender kisses are marked over Zayn’s collarbones, and Liam nudges a breathless gasp into Zayn’s neck.

“Fuck, I love you,” Liam whispers, quietening the gasp swallowing Zayn’s tongue with soft lips.

He pushes deeper with every lethargic movement, blinking down fondly at the _‘jaan’_ constantly stumbling from Zayn’s mouth.

Liam’s hips stutter, nudging over Zayn’s prostate.

There is a pale blush brushing over Zayn’s chest, soft tufts of hair fraying over his eyelashes and matted to his forehead in sweat. His mouth is a flushed pink, bruised slightly and so appealing. 

Liam reckons he could stare at Zayn forever, but Zayn is wrapping hands around the back of his neck and tugging him closer so that he can kiss him in desperation. 

Liam reaches up to grip a hand around the wooden headboard of the bed, grinning at Zayn’s laughter when it crumbles in his hand; half of the bed frame falling apart and cracking loudly. Liam is too distracted to care, his eyes sweeping over Zayn’s soft expression and the laughter lines brushed over his skin. 

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” he mumbles aloud, carding fingers into Zayn’s damp hair.

Zayn smiles, but presses his forefinger to Liam’s lips. “Sh.”

He breathes a shaky whimper moments later, ducking his head to press a needy kiss to the birthmark stained to Liam’s neck.

“Fuck,” he hisses, thumbing unsteady fingers against Liam’s jaw.

Hands wrap around the back of Zayn’s thighs, encouraging the lift of his hips as Liam pushes deeper.

“Li —”

His cock is throbbing, smearing precome over his stomach as Liam kisses along his collarbones. 

“I need —”

Liam eases his thumb over the wet crown of his cock like he can read Zayn’s mind, earning a soft _‘ah, babe’_ and a gentle whine to be brushed over his jaw. He can’t keep quiet, a shiver climbing his spine at Liam’s slow thrusts and the gentle strokes along his cock.

Liam has to blink away a constellation of fuzzy colours to focus on Zayn’s face. His eyes are screwed shut, his bottom lip taken by his teeth.  

“Hey,” Liam whispers, a groan thick and heavy at the back of his throat. “Baby, look at me.”

Zayn’s hands slip down Liam’s back and he peels his eyelids open, his head tipped back against the pillow as Liam fucks down into him, still so slow and soft.

Messy, clingy kisses are brushed over Zayn’s lips, a quiet _‘Fuck, babe’_ followed by an abrupt giggle spilling from Zayn’s mouth and into Liam’s. 

“Love you,” he hums, fingertips crawling along each vertebrae of Liam’s spine before they reach his neck, and then brush into his thick hair. 

Their chests are touching, lips brushing, and every touch encourages a wave of pleasure through Liam’s body. His muscles are tight, heartbeat quick, and he kisses Zayn, wet and slow, quietening their increasingly loud moans. 

There are murmurs of something soft whispered into his neck, but he misses it, focusing on Zayn’s fingers gliding over his skin.

“Babe,” Zayn hums under his breath, back arching from the mattress as Liam slides in deeper. “Liam, I —”

“S’ okay, love,” Liam breathes back, tilting Zayn’s chin to kiss into his mouth softly. “I’ve got you.”

Liam’s muscles flex under Zayn’s palms, a breathy moan kissed over flushed skin. He drags out every thrust, grinding his cock over Zayn’s prostate. 

“Oh fuck,” Zayn whimpers, his eyes shiny. 

Liam brushes a gentle kiss over his lips, hushing him. “Good boy,” he prompts, stroking his thumb over the head of Zayn’s dick. “So good f’ me, babe.”

Zayn’s teeth are shoved roughly into his bottom lip as he comes, a shamelessly loud moan trembled over Liam’s skin as he spurts streaks of come over Liam’s stomach. All he can piece together are shaky, fumbled whimpers that he brushes over Liam’s mouth, gasping loudly. 

Everything is warm and wet, and Liam can’t help but smile. 

There are restless pulses inside of him as he comes, nudging a messy kiss into the crook of Zayn’s neck as he comes. He fucks into Zayn with tight hips, still slow, listening to Zayn’s quiet _‘I love you’_ and the fingers still dipped into his hair. 

When he pulls out, he stares at Zayn for several seconds, dark eyes blinking slowly, before he bows his head and kisses him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Zayn whispers, a flush immediately crawling over his cheeks and down towards his neck. 

He looks up at Liam shyly, arms tangled around his neck and eyes creased around the edges as he breathes a soft smile.

 

|+|

 

Liam wakes to fingertips crawling across his chest, Zayn’s hand gliding over his stomach and towards the tattoos marked to his forearms. He doesn’t open his eyes, keeping still as he listens to Zayn’s gentle breath and the soft hum of the village outside. Several sets of footsteps walking along the pavement, a bird busying amongst the wispy branches of trees just outside the window. 

“I know you're awake,” Zayn whispers. 

Liam can hear the smile in his voice, which is soon brushed softly over his cheek. 

“M’ enjoying meself,” Liam responds in a throaty murmur. 

Each brush of Zayn’s fingers send shivers of pleasure along each vertebrae climbing his spine; echoing around his body as he lies in comfort against the crisp sheets beneath them. 

Zayn hums beneath his breath, resting his chin over Liam’s shoulder as he continues to trace the ink stained to Liam’s skin, before moving onto the subtle indents of abdominals over his stomach. 

“Did you sleep well?” Liam asks quietly when he can finally muster enough energy to speak again. 

He reluctantly peels one eye open when Zayn shrugs, tickling across Liam’s hips. 

“Mostly — I woke up at about four and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

A frown creases Liam’s forehead and he rolls onto his side, finally blinking his eyes open and looking at Zayn who is lying opposite him.

“What’ve you been doing?” 

Zayn shrugs again, scribbling soft shapes over Liam’s chest with his nails. 

“Just thinking n’ watching you sleep,” he confesses. Liam doesn’t miss the subtle blush crawling along his cheekbones and down towards his neck, and smiles. 

“You should’ve woken me.”

“You looked peaceful.”

“I was,” Liam admits, entwining their legs beneath the duvet. “I was dreaming about Greece.”

“Santorini?”

Liam nods against the pillow, a yawn catching at his lips. 

“That night we hired the boat and ate underneath the stars.”

Zayn smiles, brushing his thumb over Liam’s chin.

“You’re even soppy in your sleep,” he whispers. 

Liam pinches at Zayn’s waist, rolling his eyes. “S’ a lot better than those where you hate me,” he snorts. 

“True,” Zayn mumbles sadly, momentarily cradling Liam’s cheek with the palm of his hand as he leaves a soft kiss to Liam’s bottom lip. 

Liam sighs at the loss of contact when Zayn pulls away, letting the taste of Zayn’s lips linger over his before he eventually blinks his eyes open to focus on Zayn’s. 

“What’ve you been thinking about?” He asks.

Zayn stays silent for several moments, trailing soft touches over Liam’s spine with his arm wrapped around his waist. 

“I want to go home,” he eventually answers, eyes downcast. “As in, the house I grew up in. I’m ready.”

A tiny smile lifts Liam’s lips. “Are you sure?”

Zayn nods, swallowing. “I can’t wait forever, I need to do this.”

“You _can_ —”

Liam’s words are cut off by Zayn’s forefinger being placed to his lips. 

“I know you’re patient with me, and I love you for it — but I _can’t_ wait. I’m not sure I’ll ever be fully ready to relive my past…so, I. I want to do it. I want answers, and I want to start by visiting there. I want to be fully immersed in this before we find something that will change everything.”

Liam smiles when Zayn’s eyes flicker to his, and he shifts closer on the mattress.

“What?” Zayn questions, a frown tracing confused lines over his flawless skin. “Why are you looking at me like—”

“No reason,” Liam interrupts softly, cupping Zayn’s neck. “I just think you’re incredibly strong and incredible, and —”

“Sh,” Zayn demands, abruptly shifting them so that he’s straddling Liam’s waist and pinning him against the mattress in order to detract from the shyness creeping over his skin in an embarrassed blush. “You’re being too affectionate and I hate —”

Liam grins, hands wrapping around Zayn’s neck as he pulls him down to smother a forceful kiss over his lips. Zayn’s expression softens and he kisses Liam back, alternating from soft and gentle to rough and determined, like he can’t make up his mind. 

Liam’s hands snake down Zayn’s torso until they reach his thighs, his palms kneading at the soft skin there. He lifts his back from the mattress but Zayn shoves him back down with his hand splayed to his chest, an eyebrow lifted as he looks down at Liam with dark eyes. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” he instructs, a smirk stained across his expression as his hands disappear beneath the sheets and earn a soft and needy moan to fall from Liam’s lips.

 

|+|

 

Liam squints up at the sun, watching it fade behind thick, silvery clouds that clutter the dull sky. Droplets of rain brush over his skin, clinging to his lashes and drenching his hair.  

They wait at the rusted gate, Zayn’s hands gripping the coarse metal. Liam waits behind patiently, momentarily shutting his eyes to listen out for any movement in the house. Seconds later, he reaches out for Zayn’s shoulder, gentle fingers soothing over his skin.

“Nobody is home,” he says softly, after hearing no pulses, or footsteps, or breaths. 

Zayn nods, swallowing.

He pushes the gate open, stepping onto the cobbled pathway. The gravel crunches beneath his feet, a high-pitched squeak from the wind blowing against the rusted hinges of the gate. 

They wander around the back of the house, the rain soaking their clothes. 

Zayn pauses once they’re in the garden, a stutter of a breath falling from his parted lips. He glances at Liam, a small smile brightening his expression.

“The playhouse,” he mumbles quietly, pointing to the corner of the garden. “It’s still there. I wondered if the new owners would’ve kept it or got rid of it.”

Liam smiles, shivering as a cold breeze brushes over his arms. 

“We used to play in there all the time,” Zayn recalls, walking over and dragging his fingers over the peeling, white paint of the wood. “Me baba built it himself.”

Liam paces over the patio slowly, reaching for the handle of the glass doors at the back of the house. When he turns it, the door creeks open. 

“Babe,” Liam calls to Zayn across the garden, blinking away rain droplets. “It’s open.”

Zayn is at his side in an instant, his fingers curling around Liam’s. His heart is beating more quickly,  tongue licking over his lips like it does when he is nervous.

“Do you want to go inside?” Liam asks gently, squeezing Zayn’s hand. 

Zayn peers through the door, looking into the hallway. He eventually nods, his shoulder knocking against Liam’s.

“The carpet is the same,” he states blankly. “And the wallpaper.”

Liam drops his hand and lets it fall briefly to Zayn’s back as he walks up the stone steps. 

The moment they are inside, Liam grasps Zayn, pulling him back. A frown creases his forehead, eyes narrowing as he notices the picture frame at the end of the hallway.

Zayn turns to him, glancing questioningly.

“What —”

“Zayn, look,” he whispers, pointing at the photo. 

He recognises the eyes from where he is standing; dark brown hair and a playful grin that he knows too well.

Zayn is silent, unmoving as he stares at the photograph of his younger self. When Liam slides his fingertips along his wrist, he is frozen. 

“Zayn —”

Zayn is gone the next moment, and Liam follows him into the living room.

“Why is it identical?” He breathes, tugging a distressed hand through his hair, eyes wide. “I told the solicitors that I wanted the house sold, I. It’s exactly the same.”

Liam frowns, looking around the room. 

“I don’t know,” he answers, confusion the only thought crossing his mind. “Perhaps it was never sold?”

Faces of Zayn’s family are evident around the room; photographs on the fireplace, the windowsill, several on the wall. It reminds Liam of the photos after the car crash — those in the police report. He has to look away.

Zayn shakes his head, his eyes closed. “It doesn’t make any sense,” he says under his breath. “I remember the conversation with the lawyers and my grandparents…I remember the phone call confirming that the house had been sold.”

The rain is hammering down on the roof, echoing around the room. Liam steps closer to Zayn, wrapping arms around his small torso. Zayn sighs into the hollow beneath Liam’s jaw, fingers gripping at his shoulders. 

“This must be so hard for you,” Liam whispers, lips soothing hushed kisses over his temple. “I’m sorry.”

Zayn pulls Liam closer. He mumbles a soft _‘it’s okay_ ’ over Liam’s neck, his throat tight. 

“When you want to leave, I’ll go to the estate agents,” Liam tells him. “I’ll find out what happened.”

Zayn nods, giving Liam a gentle squeeze before he steps away. 

“I’m going to have a look around upstairs,” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Okay,” Liam smiles slightly, watching Zayn leave the room. 

He keeps an ear our for Zayn wandering around the house, eyes searching around the small living room. He smiles at a photo hanging on the wall; one of Zayn as a child — familiar eyes and a soft, sweet smile that still shifts over his lips now.

He scans the photo frames lining the mantelpiece, focusing on Zayn’s young face. He feels an abrupt feeling of sadness as he realises that Zayn will never see what he looked like as a child; that he cannot keep photographs of his own family. 

It's been hundreds of years, and the fading of their faces in his mind will never fail to bring him guilt and regret.

Liam takes one frame from the shelf, resting the cool metal in the palms of his hands. It's a family photo; Zayn with his parents and three sisters. He studies each face, noticing the same features as Zayn; dark eyes and hair. They look so happy and connected, Yaser and Trisha holding hands, Zayn on his Baba’s shoulders with a wild grin tugging at his lips. His sisters are huddled in a group hug, all laughing together. Their joy is evident, and it pains Liam to consider that these lives were taken away too early — as was Zayn’s happiness. 

Liam’s chest becomes tight as he stares at the photo; as realisation floods. He knows one face; he has seen it before. His blood runs cold, muscles frozen as he stares in disbelief at the photo.

There is a sudden rattle of keys coming from the doorway, followed by a swift intake of air from Zayn’s lips. Liam is in the hallway in a splinter of a second, reaching out to take Zayn’s wrist protectively. Zayn’s heart is dramatically quick in his chest, Liam swallowing guiltily as he stares at the girl in the doorway entrance. 

Her eyes are focused on Zayn's face, before they flicker to Liam’s. 

Liam threads his fingers through Zayn’s, cupping the small of his back as he stands behind. 

Zayn’s voice splutters, tears suddenly slipping down his reddening cheeks.

_“Doniya?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'd love to know what you think x)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to those of you who helped me with editing, or your thoughts, for this chapter. You're the best ♥  
> And thank you to the rest of you for sticking with me - sorry this one took so long to write!

Liam could cut the tension with a knife. 

He swallows and brushes his fingertips over the bottom of Zayn’s spine in comfort. 

Zayn is silent in front of him; frozen. His breathing is quick and his heart is beating swiftly as he stares at Doniya.

The similarities between the two of them are incredible; soft, brown eyes and an off-place dimple pressed into each cheek. Doniya’s long, flowing hair echoes the same colour as Zayn’s, and the small smile that eventually crawls to her lips is almost identical to that of Zayn’s. 

He’s astounded that he never made the connection after meeting her all those years ago. 

“Zayn —” Doniya begins softly, but she is immediately cut off. 

“How are you here?” he asks, voice tight and strained in his throat. “How are you _alive_?”

Doniya licks over her lips, tucking a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, shyly.

“I’m the same as you,” she answers quietly. 

Zayn stares at her, eyes wide. “How?”

Liam can make out the distress painted to Doniya’s features, the tremble of her lips as she smiles shakily. 

“I’ll tell you everything, Zayn,” she says, finally shutting the front door behind her and blocking out the icy wind. “But first, can I just —”

She steps forward, arms lifted in attempt to reach out for Zayn.

“No,” Zayn says coldly, recoiling into Liam’s touch. “You let me think that you were _dead_. For fourteen years. Fourteen years I have been left with nobody. I was a _child_.”

Doniya’s face falls, and she snatches her arms away. 

“Zayn,” Liam mumbles under his breath, palms curling around Zayn’s waist.

“I promise I’ll explain everything,” Doniya repeats, eyes flickering to Liam and then back to Zayn. “Perhaps with tea? I can make —”

Zayn snorts and strides through into the living room, leaving Liam and Doniya alone in the hallway. 

Liam attempts to smile, nodding slightly. 

“That would be lovely,” he says quietly to Doniya. “We both take it with milk and two sugars.”

Doniya nods, looking grateful for the softness of Liam’s voice. 

“Liam,” Zayn snaps from the living room.

Liam flashes apologetic eyes to Doniya before he joins Zayn, wincing at the anger and sadness fluctuating over his expression. 

He thinks of something comforting to say, but no words leave his lips. He doesn’t know how to make this better. 

“Hey,” he eventually whispers, one hand cupping Zayn’s neck and jaw.

Tears water beneath Zayn’s closed eyelids, a sob catching in his throat. 

“How the fuck is this happening?” He asks, sighing. 

“I don’t know,” Liam mumbles back, bringing Zayn into his chest. 

Arms slide around his torso, holding him close. They stand together for a minute, until Liam hears the whistle of the kettle in the kitchen and pulls away slightly. 

“C’mere,” he says softly, sitting back onto the sofa and gently pulling Zayn down with him. 

Zayn stays quiet, folding his arms across his chest and staring blankly at the wall in front of them.

They wait in silence for Doniya to return to the room, and Liam is relieved that Zayn’s breathing soon decreases slightly. 

Doniya sets three mugs of steaming tea onto the coffee table before taking the armchair across from them.

“That was dad’s chair,” Zayn states, his voice empty as he stares at her. 

Doniya nods, looking across at Zayn with sad eyes. “I know — it comforts me.”

Liam notices Zayn’s knuckles fading white as his fingers grip the sofa, and swiftly brings them into his lap before any damage can be done.

Zayn turns his head and looks away, lips clamped shut. 

The ticking of a clock echoes around the silence of the room, and Liam takes a soft breath. 

“I’ve met you before,” he says quietly to Doniya, swallowing as Zayn’s head immediately snaps around so that he can stare at his face.

“What?” he asks lowly, eyes narrowing. 

“It must’ve been more than ten years ago?” Liam recalls, watching as Doniya nods. “You were dating my friend, Andy.”

A smile spreads over Doniya’s lips.

“More than dating, now,” she says softly, holding up her left hand. There are two rings wrapped around her finger, both the engagement and wedding ring glistening in the light pouring through the window. 

“Congratulations,” Liam acknowledges quietly, ignoring Zayn’s glare that is burning into the side of his face. “I haven’t seen Andy in years.”

“We live just outside of Bradford,” Doniya explains. “I don’t go by Doniya anymore — in case anyone knows me from all those years ago. It’s hard to compel anyone around here, anyway — most people wear vervain.”

Liam’s eyebrows raise, and he exchanges a knowing look with Zayn.

“That would explain the attack,” Zayn notes aloud, his lower lip taken by his teeth. 

Doniya’s eyes widen and she stares at them curiously? “ _Attack_?”

Liam hums a quiet laugh, his lips quirked at the corners. “I tried to compel a couple and they injected me with vervain.”

“How do people know about vampires?” Zayn questions, before Doniya can say anything. 

Doniya shrugs, her head cocked to one side. “Conspiracies, legends, myths — constant ‘ _animal attacks_ ’, possibly. There are a fair amount of vampires in Bradford; some aren’t quite so careful with their killings, or who they sink their teeth into.”

Zayn falls quiet, and his gaze falls to his lap where he fidgets his fingers against one another. 

“I bought the house before anyone else could,” Doniya says to Zayn, to fill the ascending silence fallen upon them. “I come back often — it makes me feel as though I still have all of you with me.”

“You could have had me with you,” Zayn snaps, almost growling beneath his breath. “I’ve been here, alone, this whole time.”

Hurt brushes over Doniya’s face, and she flashes sad eyes to Zayn.

“I know,” she whispers, palms pressed together. “And I’m sorry, Zayn. I truly am.”

“I had to sit there, at the funeral, and listen to people giving speeches about the five of you,” Zayn adds, eyes dark. “Five coffins, Doniya. I stood there watching them being lowered into the ground, I —”

Zayn’s voice cracks and a sigh drowns out his words, the three of them falling silent.  Minutes later Zayn releases a shaky exhale and lets his eyelids shut.

“Were you a vampire before the car accident?” he eventually asks, once his breathing has slowed. 

Liam slides his hand further across the sofa so that it is just touching Zayn’s. 

“No,” Doniya mumbles, shaking her head. 

Zayn’s eyelids flicker open, and confusion wrinkles his expression. 

“So you survived the crash?” he clarifies. 

Doniya winces, cocking her head to one side. “Yes and no.”

Zayn opens his mouth to speak, but Doniya cuts him off.

“I died in the accident,” Doniya says in a whisper. 

Nobody says anything for several moments, Zayn and Doniya’s increased pulses clashing with one another.

“I had been seeing Andy for over a year,” Doniya explains softly. “I didn’t tell any of you, because I thought baba would disapprove. He was a vampire—recently turned—and he’d heard that vampire blood could cure human wounds, so we tested the theory.”

Doniya takes a moment to pause for breath, threading her trembling hands together. 

“I cut the palm of my hand with a knife and then tasted his blood — and the wound healed.”

A sad smile lifts Doniya’s lips. “That was the night of the car accident, just before we left. Andy’s blood was still in my system when I died.”

Liam can almost feel the pain clinging to Zayn as he sits beside him. His anger seems to have dissolved, and he watches Doniya with sad eyes. 

“You were in the car,” Doniya breathes, a single tear spilling over her cheek. “You were sat next to me, and when the car was flipping over you shouted my name and reached out for me. That’s the last thing I remember before I died. You were the only one to survive, Zayn.”

Liam covers Zayn’s shaking hand with his own. He remembers Zayn explaining one of his dreams; that he reached out for Doniya before everything went black. It cuts up his chest realising that this was a memory and not a dream.

“I woke up as a vampire in the hospital,” Doniya says quietly. “Andy was there — he’d heard about the accident.”

“Was I with you?” Zayn asks. “At the hospital?”

Doniya nods, choking on a tight sob. “You were unconscious — in a coma, Zayn. You had broken ribs and your skull had been badly damaged.”

Liam bites harshly at the flesh of his lower lip and squeezes Zayn’s hand tightly. The pieces of information they’d discovered are coming together, and it makes Liam feel sick to the stomach.

Zayn takes a while to speak, and when he does, his voice is scratchy and breathless.

“What happened after that?”

“Andy told me that —” Doniya trails off, looking away for a moment. “He told me that you were in a coma…that mum, baba, Waliyah and Safaa were gone.”

Zayn shifts on the sofa, continuing to stare at Doniya with empty eyes.

“I fed you my blood,” Doniya explains, as she eventually flickers a shy glance at Zayn. “You healed quickly, and Andy went to compel the doctors — to discharge you.”

Zayn tugs a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before now?” Zayn asks, a subtlety of anger seeped into his tone. “I would’ve understood — I, I don’t understand why you waited all this time. Why you left me alone.”

Doniya brushes a tear from her cheek and lets her eyelids fall closed, exhaling a shaky sigh.

“In the hospital — I. Andy left the room and when he came back, he —”

Her voice breaks and she chokes on a breath, her heart beating more rapidly than ever.

“There was blood, _everywhere_ Zayn. All I remember was _hunger_. The pain, it was agony — ripping through me, and I. Andy struggled to get me off of you — I. I just remember the blood staining the walls and all over the bed…coating your body.”

Zayn swallows, a frown creasing his soft skin.

“I hurt you, Zayn,” Doniya speaks quietly, unable to look Zayn in the eye. “My own _brother_. You were screaming out in pain, for me to stop, but I couldn’t.”

Liam is frozen as he listens to Doniya’s words. The thought of Zayn being hurt tears agony through him, but he forces himself to stay calm with short, stuttered breaths. 

“If Andy hadn’t come in when he did…”

She trails off, voice fragile.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her throat thick. “I’ve never been able to control my thirst. I find it difficult being around humans, which is one of the reasons I never reached out.”

Empathy fills Liam’s mind; he knows the struggles of adjusting to the transformation. It was always hard for him, but he has met vampires who can’t even be near a human without the need to drain them of blood.

“I’ve tried to control it, but every time I get closer to being normal — something flips and the desire for blood takes over.”

Zayn nods, looking at Doniya again. From where Liam is sitting, he can see that Zayn’s eyes have brightened slightly — they are no longer the opaque black that they once were with anger and conflicting emotions.

 “I know you don’t remember, because I compelled away the memories — but I’m so sorry.”

Zayn swallows, glancing at Liam. 

“I’ve started to remember,” he eventually says, softly. 

Doniya looks up with confusion traced to every feature, a frown slicing through her expression. 

“You’ve started to remember what?”

“The day of the accident,” Zayn explains, quietly. “I remember reaching out for you, and calling your name. That’s all I remember so far.”

Doniya’s frown grows even deeper, and Liam realises that she has no idea about compulsion being reversed.

“How can you remember that?” She asks. “I compelled you that day. To forget everything. Andy helped me — I. I told you that you weren’t in the car; that you were following us in our grandparents’ car behind. I even compelled them to believe the same story, I —”

“When somebody turns from a human to a vampire, compulsion is reversed,” Liam interrupts softly, a dismal smile sat at his lips. “So when Zayn turned, memories of the accident started to come back to him.”

Doniya stares at him in disbelief, tears blurring her eyes. 

“That’s why we’re in Bradford,” Zayn adds. “I started having dreams a while ago.”

Doniya closes her eyes, trying to process what Zayn and Liam are telling her. 

“I’m so sorry, Zayn,” she mumbles, sighing shakily. “You’re going to remember what I did to you that night — you’ll remember me hurting you, and the blood…I. You’re going to see me as a monster, which is what I am.”

Zayn shakes his head, his frown deepening. 

“You’re not a monster. You’re my sister.”

A small smile finally shifts over Doniya’s lips, though it is sad.

“I will never forgive myself for hurting you that day at the hospital,” she whispers. “You were already in so much pain from the accident, and from losing our family.” 

Zayn chews over his bottom lip for a moment, before shaking his head slightly. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” he tells her. “You had just turned.”

“I know, but —”

“I know how that feels,” Zayn continues, crossing his ankles. “I’ve had plenty of bad days. If it weren’t for Liam then there would have been a lot more.”

Liam smiles slightly, flickering a glance at Zayn. 

“I don’t blame you for that,” Zayn murmurs, shaking his head again. “I just blame you for concealing yourself from me this whole time.”

Doniya’s eyes fall into her lap. 

“I was _scared_. I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you again.”

“You could’ve written me a letter, for all I care — just something. _Anything_. Something to let me know that you were alive, that I hadn’t lost everyone.”

“I’m so sorry,” Doniya repeats, blinking away tears as she stares at Zayn. “I was wrong, and I know that.”

Zayn looks away, tracing the palm of his hand with his thumb. 

“You said that finding it difficult being around humans is one of the reasons why you never tried to contact me —?” 

“You moved to America,” Doniya sighs. “I couldn’t find you.”

“You could have found me if you really wanted to,” Zayn says, a slight hostility held in his tone. 

Liam brushes his hand against the side of Zayn’s on the sofa in comfort. 

“You’re right,” Doniya eventually says, nodding. “I think a part of me has always been terrified of hurting you again.”

Liam listens to the shower of rain hitting the roof in soft patters. It echoes Doniya and Zayn’s heartbeats, filling the silence as Zayn sinks back into the sofa. 

“I saw you,” Liam says quietly, filling the silence. “Recently — where Zayn used to work.”

He thinks back to the day at the coffee shop, sat on the stools at the window where he’d unknowingly seen Doniya amongst a crowd of faces. Though recognisable, he hadn’t made the connection between meeting her ten years ago and now.

Liam internally sighs, guilt tracing his thoughts. If only he’d looked at the other photographs of Zayn’s family in the accident report, aside from Zayn’s father— he would’ve seen Doniya’s picture, and they would’ve solved everything much more quickly.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d seen me,” Doniya whispers, smiling slightly. “You were looking in my direction — but then I saw Zayn, and I ran.”

Zayn glances between Liam and Doniya, opening his mouth to speak — though Doniya interrupts before he can say anything.

“I kept an eye on you,” she tells him, twisting the wedding ring on her finger. “Every once in a while, to check that you were alright.”

“While I was human?” Zayn asks, eyebrows raised. 

Doniya nods. “Andy would come with me, of course.”

A hurt frown creases Zayn’s skin. “I never saw you.”

“We kept our distance. I would wait outside that cafe you worked in and listen in on your conversations — check that you were safe.”

A light blush brushes over Doniya’s cheeks and down towards her neck in embarrassment. 

Liam is unable to read the expression on Zayn’s face as he continues to watch Doniya closely. 

“It took everything in me to refrain from killing that girl who broke your heart,” Doniya whispers, eyelids snapping closed. Liam still notices her darkening irises. “You were sad for a long time.”

Zayn shifts uncomfortably in his seat, glancing at Liam for a brief moment. 

“I’m fine now.”

When Doniya eventually opens her eyes again, they are the normal hazel, and her expression has softened. 

“Of course you are,” she says softly, looking between Liam and Zayn. “I’ve seen that. The two of you together.”

“Don’t you dare tease me about this kind of thing like you usually do,” Zayn mumbles with a smile, before he slams his lips together like he’s said too much. 

Liam knows forgiveness is slipping through the harsh front Zayn has put up; that deep down, there is happiness inside of him that he did not lose everyone in that accident. It seems as though Doniya knows it, too, because there is hope sparked in her eyes from Zayn’s words. 

“If Liam has seen you recently, then I have been a vampire since you have been watching me,” Zayn says, changing the subject, “That means you had no reason to stay away from me — you could’ve told me that you were alive.”

“I know,” Doniya breathes. “I wanted to. I was _going_ to.”

“So why didn’t you?” Zayn asks coldly.

Liam brushes his thumb across Zayn’s knuckles, feeling anger build again. Zayn takes a breath and nudges his fingertips against Liam’s — a silent exchange of a ‘thank you’.

“I saw the two of you together, and you were _happy_ , Zayn,” Doniya eventually whispers, momentarily looking at their touching hands, a tiny smile lingering at her lips for several seconds. “Happier than I’d seen you in years.”

Liam refrains from letting the smile shift over his expression, instead focusing on Doniya’s words. 

“You’d gone through so much — losing us, having your heart broken — I. I saw how you were with Liam. Different, but in a good way. That smile, when you looked at him, that is how you used to smile when you were laughing — with mum, and baba, and us. That’s what _happiness_ looks like. When I watched you for all those years, there was something _missing_ , Zayn.”

Zayn watches Doniya, stunned. His pulse has quickened, and his fingers flinch against Liam’s.

“I saw you once, with the other three,” Doniya adds, smiling as she looks down her hands in her lap. “You were talking to…I can’t remember his name — the one with the curls —”

“Harry,” Liam mumbles, a crooked smile clinging to his lips. 

Doniya nods, laughing under her breath. “You were telling Harry about this novel you’d read, and then you were discussing what you were going to eat that night — and it was just so normal, Zayn. You five looked like a real _family_ — something you haven’t had in a long time.”

“They _are_ my family,” Zayn whispers when Doniya has finished speaking. 

Liam nudges his thigh, frowning slightly despite the internal smile triggered by Zayn’s words.

Zayn looks to Doniya, guilt seeping over his expression.

“I don’t mean… _you_ are —” he falls silent, lips parted. 

“I get it,” Doniya smiles, twisting her ring again. “I’m happy that you found them.”

Zayn sighs, tugging at his bottom lip with his teeth.

“You suit being a vampire,” she says after a moment. “You had a hard time growing up and I know you felt like you never fitted in, Zayn. But this suits you, this life. Or perhaps it’s just being with Liam.”

Liam cannot help the flush painting his skin, and he ducks his head in embarrassment. Zayn laughs softly, shrugging.

“Knew you couldn’t help yourself,” Zayn mumbles, flashing Doniya an amused grin. “Being an embarrassing big sister, eh?”

Doniya shakes her head fondly, the dimple in her left cheek more prominent as she smiles.

“Sorry,” she giggles. 

Zayn freezes for a moment, looking to Liam and tapping his wrist before he stands from the sofa. He crosses the small room to Doniya, holding out his hand for her and pulling her up gently from her seat. 

Doniya looks confused, but the confusion fades into delight as Zayn wraps his arms around her small frame, hooking his chin over her shoulder. Doniya’s palms cling to Zayn’s back, eyelids closed as she exhales a shaky breath.

“This is going to take time,” Liam hears Zayn whisper into Doniya’s hair, his voice soft. “But I’m glad that you’re here.”

A tight sob falls from Doniya’s lips as she holds Zayn close, eyelashes wet as several tears fall onto Zayn’s shoulder. 

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Doniya mumbles, her arms constricting around Zayn even tighter. “Over fourteen years, Zayn.”

Liam looks away, letting them have their moment. He smiles as he looks into his lap, feeling relief ease over his limbs. 

When Zayn eventually pulls away, he leaves a quick kiss to Doniya’s temple, fingers momentarily brushing over her shoulder.

“We haven’t even touched our tea,” Doniya nervously murmurs moments later, uttering a soft laugh. She brushes away the tear staining her cheek, shakily saying “I’ll make more.”

When she leaves the room, Liam lifts himself from the sofa.

“I think I’m going to head off,” he says quietly, glancing at Zayn.

Zayn stands, too, a slight frown easing over his features. 

“Okay,” he eventually agrees, nodding. “I can see Doniya again tomorrow, let me go and say —”

“Stay,” Liam whispers, cutting Zayn off with a smile. “You two need time alone.”

The frown crossing Zayn’s brow grows deeper, and he steps closer to Liam.

“But —”

“But nothing,” Liam says softly. “You’ve just found out that your sister is alive, Zayn. You have plenty to catch up on, fourteen years worth, and I think you should do it without me.”

Zayn looks thoughtful for a moment, looking up at Liam curiously. 

“Okay,” he says under his breath, after a while. “You’re right.”

“Always am,” Liam grins, his smile only growing wider as Zayn rolls his eyes and snorts.

Liam lifts his hand to momentarily drag his thumb across Zayn’s cheekbone. 

“Say goodbye to Doniya for me,” Liam tells him, dropping his hand and heading into the hallway. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” Zayn mumbles back, smiling across the room at Liam.

Liam doesn’t make it to the front door before he is being pulled back and a quick but firm kiss is being pushed to his lips. When Zayn pulls away, he lets his lips linger a little longer than necessary, eyelids closed as he brushes his nose against Liam’s with a smile. 

“Stay safe,” he whispers, before Liam flits out of the house. 

 

|+|

 

Liam collapses onto the bed when he returns to their room, letting his muscles sink into the mattress. He hasn’t told Zayn — not wanting to worry him any further, but the remnants of vervain circulating his system still feels as though sandpaper is brushing harshly against his insides. 

 

He calls Harry and explains to the three back at home, through speakerphone, that Doniya is alive. They talk for just over an hour, before Liam drags the duvet over his body and feels sleep pulling at him. His phone buzzes, and the last thing he sees is a text from Zayn — _Sleep tight. Love u_ — before his head hits the pillow. 

 

|+| 

 

Liam feels the mattress shift when the rain is still tipping soft droplets over the roof and the drawn curtains pour nothing but darkness into the room. Delicate fingers are swept through his hair as Zayn sits beside him, smiling in the darkness.

“Time is it?” Liam mumbles incomprehensibly into his pillow, exhaustion tugging at every limb and thought. 

“Just after four,” Zayn says softly, his thumb brushing over Liam’s forehead. “Go back to sleep, babe.”

Liam squints into the darkness, blinking tiredly at Zayn. “You didn’t stay?”

Zayn shakes his head, humming quiet laughter at Liam’s confusion.

“M’ not leaving you alone all night — not when most of Bradford has access to vervain, apparently.”

Liam smiles against the pillow, reaching up blindly and tugging at the collar of Zayn’s shirt. 

Zayn snorts, kicking off his shoes before he lets Liam guide him onto the mattress beside him, yanking the duvet over their heads. 

Liam’s eyes blink shut, but he forces himself to stay awake. 

“Y’ okay?” he whispers, resting his palm over Zayn’s hipbone. 

Liam feels Zayn nod against the sheets, a content hum pouring from his lips as Zayn’s fingertips tickle over Liam’s spine carefully.

“More than okay,” Zayn whispers, nuzzling closer. The tip of his nose touches Liam’s, lips brushing. “We talked things through, mostly.”

“S’ good,” Liam smiles sleepily, squeezing at Zayn’s hip.

Zayn giggles over Liam’s lips, shaking his head. 

“Go to sleep, you idiot,” he says fondly. “We can talk about it in the mornin’.”

Liam hums and puckers his lips until Zayn eventually kisses him.

He mumbles something incoherent but close to _‘love you’_ under his breath, before sleep pulls him back under.

 

|+|

 

Liam wakes to a drumroll of a heartbeat beside him and Zayn’s confused murmurs, muffled by the pillow his head is rested upon. His fingers are clawing at the duvet, his breathing rapid as he flinches in his sleep. 

Liam reaches out for him in the darkness, stroking comforting fingertips over his arm. 

“Zayn,” he mumbles tiredly in attempt to wake him from the dream he is having. 

Liam frowns as Zayn flinches again, tears falling over his skin from beneath closed eyelids. 

“No,” he breathes, voice urgent before he is repeating the word over and over, louder each time. 

“Babe,” Liam says firmly, palms against Zayn’s shoulders as he shakes him. “Wake _up_.”

Zayn’s eyelids flutter before he is pushing himself from the mattress, gasping for air. 

He grabs Liam’s hand, and Liam blinks in confusion as a memory abruptly stains his mind.

 

_Zayn’s eyes blink open slowly, his vision blurred in front of him. His eyelids are heavy, eyelashes fluttering from the sudden shock of light. The room is white and machinery around him is bleeping on a continuous loop._

_Zayn looks down at his arms with a frown, confusion traced across his brow as he notices the wires wrapped around his arms and the needles in his veins. When his vision finally adjusts, he notices Doniya stood in front of him — relief evident across her expression. There is a smear of dried blood along her collarbone and dipped below her hairline, her t-shirt torn in several places. Her eyes are full of shining tears, a sob choked in her throat as she reaches for Zayn’s hand._

_There is something different about her, though Zayn cannot work out what it is._

_“Thank goodness you’re alright,” she breathes shakily, a soft sigh pouring from her parted lips. “I thought… I can’t lose you, too.”_

_Zayn’s brow creases further, and he squeezes Doniya’s hand held in his._

_“What do you mean —”_

_Zayn’s words are broken as the memories flood his mind; of the vehicle slamming into the side of their car, and the screams echoed inside the vehicle from Safaa and Waliyah — the silence from his mum and his baba in the front._

_Zayn swallows, suddenly speechless as he blinks up at Doniya. He repeats her words in his head, ‘I can’t lose you, too’ on a constant cycle that draws more sadness towards his chest with every repetition of the words._

_“Mum, and baba —” he manages to stumble out weakly, his heart sinking in his chest as Doniya begins to cry harder._

_“They’re gone, Zayn,” she sobs, letting the tears fall over her cheeks. “Wali and Saf, too.”_

_Zayn feels numb, as if the oxygen is being drained from his lungs. He can’t breathe, can’t hear, can't_ see _— everything becomes a blur; his senses failing him. Doniya says something, but Zayn is too empty to acknowledge her words. He just stares, feeling the tears slide over his skin. A voice is shouting ‘They’re gone’ over and over, pain seeping into every cell in his body. He is frozen, limbs tied to the small hospital bed._

_He chokes on a ragged breath as he realises he will never feel his mum’s embrace when she cradles him close, or the warmth of his baba’s smile. Safaa will no longer wake him up early on a Sunday morning, begging him to paint with her — and the affection clinging to Zayn whenever Waliyah laughs is now merely a fragment of the past._

_“It’s just you and me now, Zayn,” Doniya whispers, her fingers threading through Zayn’s. “I wish I could be a good big sister right now and tell you that everything is going to be okay, but I don’t know if it is.”_

_Her voice cracks and she shakes her head repeatedly, her expression crumpled and_ fractured.

_Zayn flinches as he suddenly notices a figure behind Doniya, leaning against the hospital wall with an unreadable expression swept to his face. Zayn doesn’t recognise him, but the man reaches out for Doniya and places a comforting hand onto her shoulder._

_Doniya must notice the confusion in Zayn’s eyes, because she raises her head while leaning into his touch._

_“This is Andy,” she says quietly, voice frail. “I’ve been seeing him for a while.”_

_Zayn stays silent, staring at Andy for a moment._

_“Hi, Zayn,” he whispers softly, before gesturing for Doniya to turn to him._

_He says something under his breath that Zayn cannot hear, but he then leaves the room._

_“Why didn’t you tell us about him?” Zayn asks, brows knitted together. He pushes up from the hospital bed, lowering his hands into his lap._

_Doniya opens her mouth to speak, but no words follow. Her eyes are wide and focused on Zayn’s wrist, her breathing suddenly heavy._

_Zayn looks down to his arm, noticing the droplet of blood slipping over his skin from beneath a cannula. When he returns his gaze to Doniya, he chokes on a breath as he sees black irises and a trickle of veins printed to Doniya’s skin._

_She is frozen for a moment, her hands gripping and denting the metal railing of the hospital bed._

_“You’re a vampire?” Zayn breathes in disbelief, confused thoughts brushing over his mind. “How—”_

_Zayn’s voice is cut as Doniya takes a step closer, fangs now sitting over her dark lips._

_“Doniya,” Zayn whispers, his pulse quickening by the second. “No, Don, it’s_ me _—”_

_A tight sob suffocates Zayn’s throat as Doniya lurches for his neck and pain surges through his body. He tries to speak, but all he can whimper is a repeated ‘no’ beneath his breath. Tears stream over his cheeks, blood running over his skin — pooling at his collarbones before sliding down towards his chest. He tries to push her away but she doesn’t flinch. Agony traces every inch of his body as sharp teeth tear into his skin over and over, never stopping._

_Zayn’s eyelids open and close slowly, his vision blurring over. He becomes dizzy, the ceiling circling above him._

_He is barely conscious as somebody approaches the bed, and Doniya is suddenly being thrown across the room and away from Zayn._

 

Zayn looks to Liam with confused eyes, breathless lips parted. 

“Did you —” He pauses, staring at Liam with tears stroking his cheeks. “Did you _see_ that?”

Liam swallows the tight sob in his throat as he threads his fingers through Zayn’s. The image of Zayn lying in the hospital bed, covered in blood, will not leave his mind. It tears pain through him, and he cradles Zayn into his chest, whimpering under his breath. 

“Yeah, I saw it,” he whispers, lips gentle against Zayn’s forehead. 

Zayn’s eyelashes flutter against Liam’s neck, lost for words.

“ _How_?” He eventually asks, bundling the material of Liam’s jumper in his hands. “How did you see that — I. That was _my_ memory.”

“It’s a vampire thing,” Liam explains quietly. “You were in pain, because of the memory — so you’re weak. That’s why I could see, too. You let me _in_ , technically.”

Zayn shivers in Liam’s hold, pulling away to look up at Liam’s face.

“I’ve been weak before, why could I only show you now?”

Liam shrugs, biting down onto his bottom lip so much so that it draws blood. Zayn brushes over the tiny wound with his thumb, sighing against Liam’s shoulder.

“Perhaps this time it really struck a nerve,” he mumbles. “You were in a lot of pain, both physically and mentally, I guess.”

Zayn hums, a frown clinging to his expression. 

“I don’t really understand it,” he whispers moments later. 

Liam murmurs a sad smile over Zayn’s hairline while his fingers trace the vertebrates at the bottom of Zayn’s spine. 

“I don’t either,” he says softly. “I’ll ask Harry when we get home — all I know is that it happens when you’re weak, and when you’re close to someone. I, it happened when Louis almost killed Eleanor, all those years ago.”

Zayn flashes confused eyes up to Liam. 

“He showed you?”

Liam nods. “Before he turned his humanity off, he came home — distraught, obviously. When I hugged him I saw everything, from his point of view. Ripping into her neck — I…” He pauses, eyelids pinching closed. “I felt the desire for blood, but also the pain it was causing him…that he couldn’t stop.”

Zayn holds Liam’s hand more tightly, lips brushing into the nape of his neck.

“That was one of the reasons stopping me from pursuing whatever it was that we had when you were human,” Liam adds, voice soft and shy. “I was terrified that I’d act how Louis had acted, that I’d see you hurt, the way Eleanor had been.”

Zayn’s nose nudges against Liam’s jaw, and he shrugs arms around Liam’s neck.

“Are you okay?” Liam wonders aloud, arms tightening around Zayn’s small torso protectively.

Zayn nods, a little stiffly. 

“I’m okay,” he whispers, as though he’s trying to reassure himself. “I just wasn’t ready to see that so soon.”

Liam hums over Zayn’s temple, fingers soothing over his muscles beneath his t-shirt.

“Perhaps seeing Doniya triggered the memories,” he suggests softly.

Zayn sighs, holding Liam closer. 

As they fall silent, Liam focuses on the rhythm of Zayn’s pulse to distract himself from seeing and feeling the pain Zayn felt lying on that hospital bed all those years ago. 

He can’t help but think how different everything would be if Andy hadn’t returned to the hospital room when he did, and pulled Doniya away. If Zayn had died before he’d been cured by vampire blood, if Liam had never met him.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” Zayn asks softly, noticing the change in Liam’s heartbeat. 

Liam shakes his head against Zayn’s. 

“Just how lucky I am to have you,” Liam whispers after a moment. “What my life would’ve been like, if…”

He trails off, but as always, Zayn knows. 

“If Doniya didn’t stop?” 

Liam swallows, nodding. 

Zayn withdraws his head slightly, looking up at Liam.

“This is probably the cheesiest thing I’ve ever said, n’ I’m about to hate myself for it,” Zayn says, smiling against Liam’s skin for the first time in a while, “But I reckon Doniya was right, about what she said — that something was missing in my life. Ever since I found out about Ant, I knew I wanted to be a vampire, but. But _you_ , Liam. I think that is what was missing.”

Liam grins, cupping Zayn’s cheek. 

“C’n you record that, babe? On me phone or something — for the next time you take the piss out of me for saying somethin’ —”

Laughter slides over Liam’s tongue as Zayn abruptly pins him against the mattress, eyes darkening slightly as he holds him down by the wrists, thighs locked either side of Liam’s stomach.

“I’m serious, Liam.”

“I know,” Liam says softly, the pad of his thumb brushing over Zayn’s chin, over the rough stubble growing there. “Me too, love.”

A confused frown creases Zayn’s brow as he looks down at Liam curiously, waiting for him to explain. His fingers slide from Liam’s wrists to the palms of his hands, eventually tangling their fingers together against the soft sheets of the mattress. 

“I’ve been alive for over two hundred years, and you’re the first person that I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life with,” Liam whispers, looking up into hazel eyes. “I reckon that means something, huh?”

Zayn bites over the smile lifting his lips, laughter lines painted over his skin. He bows his head, nose knocking against Liam’s. 

“I love you,” Zayn breathes, lips brushing ever so slightly over Liam’s. “A fucking lot, Liam.”

Liam snorts, lifting his head from the pillow to place a soft kiss to Zayn’s mouth. 

“Love you, too,” he mumbles back, fingers squeezing at Zayn’s. 

When Zayn’s eyelids blink open, eyelashes fluttering, he stares at Liam for a moment — eyes soft and full of emotion. He combs fingertips through Liam’s hair, thoughtfulness brushed across his features. 

Liam waits patiently, nudging his head into Zayn’s touch. 

“There’s somewhere I need to go,” Zayn eventually whispers, lifting himself from where he lies over Liam’s chest and offering out a hand to pull Liam up with him. 

 

|+|

 

 

The silvery clouds hanging in a graphite sky are still pouring out fierce droplets of rain, coaxing shivers from the two of them as the rain coats their skin and drenches their clothes. There is fog hanging like a curtain, covering the graveyard as if it were a shield. 

Liam reaches for Zayn’s hand as they stand behind the tall, iron gates towering above them. He looks to Zayn, waiting for reassurance. 

Zayn finally glances up to him, raindrops slipping over his skin, and gives a slight nod, his bottom lip taken harshly by his teeth. 

With one quick and easy action, Liam snatches the padlock from where it seals the gate and the fence, tossing it to one side and standing aside to let Zayn enter first. 

The soil beneath their feet is soft and malleable as they walk between graves, the rain growing heavier. Liam listens to Zayn’s quickened pulse as he walks slightly behind, looking closely at the names engraved to each stone.

“Shall we split up?” Liam suggests softly, looking across the grounds at the hundreds of gravestones lined in jagged rows. The thought of so many dead has a pool of butterflies caught in Liam’s stomach, perhaps with the thought that he will never be one of those bodies buried beneath the ground. 

Zayn nods, staring at Liam for a moment before he continues to walk along the damp grass. Liam crosses to the other side of the graveyard, pulling his collar more tightly around his neck as a chill of icy air brushes past him. 

He passes more than thirty gravestones before he pauses upon seeing ‘Trisha Malik’. There are four more stones beside Zayn’s mother’s, those belonging to the rest of his family. 

“Zayn,” he calls out into the rain, blinking away droplets that cling to his lashes. 

He immediately hears the shift in Zayn’s pulse, and a fraction of a second later, Zayn is at his side. 

Zayn stands there in silence, a vacant look held in his eyes as he stares at the stones in front of him. Liam stays quiet, too, letting Zayn have a moment. 

“I haven’t been here before,” Zayn eventually says. His voice is a frail whisper, words muttered softly in juxtaposition to the fierce raindrops falling harshly and the whistle of wind echoing around them. “Well, not since the funeral.”

He walks between the graves, resting his hand on the stone belonging to his mum. 

“I tried to distance myself from them, from the accident, for so long,” he adds, shaking his head. “I left Bradford, I moved to a different continent — I never came home.”

There are tears brimming over Zayn’s waterline and falling over his skin, his throat tight and hoarse. 

“I thought it would help with the pain, but it’s always going to be with me.”

Liam nods, blinking away his own tears.

Zayn walks over to the grave furthest from them, both hands brushing over the rusted stone. 

“She was so young,” he breathes as he traces the gold letters spelling out ‘Safaa’. “Eight years old, she deserved so much more.”

“They all did,” Liam whispers sadly. “I wish I could’ve met them.”

Zayn nods stiffly, sighing as he walks around the gravestones to return to Liam’s side.

“Me mum would’ve loved you,” he says under his breath as he leans his head to rest on Liam’s shoulder. “I’m certain.”

The cold wind continues to prickle goosebumps over their skin, the rain showering down on the graveyard. Zayn’s pulse slows as they stand together beneath the downpour, comforted by Liam’s fingertips placed at the small of his back. 

“I feel like I’ve let them down,” Zayn whispers after a while, his voice hollow and empty. 

A frown trickles over Liam’s skin as he glances down at Zayn. 

“How?” He asks softly, a protectiveness swarming inside of him at Zayn’s words. 

“Doniya stood by them all of this time,” Zayn mumbles into the darkness, all of his weight leaning on Liam. “She kept the house, she stayed — but I distanced myself, from Bradford, from them.”

“People cope in different ways,” Liam whispers against Zayn’s temple, lips brushing over his hairline. “You haven’t let them down, Zayn — they would want you to do whatever it takes to make yourself happier.”

Zayn nods slightly, twisting his hands into Liam’s rain-soaked t-shirt. 

“I’m so happy that Doniya is here, but it’s just brought everything back,” he says against the harsh wind. “I feel like I’m losing them all over again.”

Liam wraps an arm around Zayn’s torso, his stomach dropping as Zayn begins to cry into his shoulder. Zayn’s throat is thick as tight sobs get caught, his breathing shaky and heart beating quickly as tears stroke his cheeks amongst the rain droplets also slipping over his skin. 

“I’m sorry,” Liam says thickly, encouraging Zayn closer until his head is nudging into the hollow of Liam’s neck. 

One hand is gripped in the back of Zayn’s wet hair, the other tightly holding his waist. 

“You’re okay,” he whispers as Zayn’s eyelashes flutter tears over his skin, lips brushing over his jaw as he gasps for breath. 

Zayn’s fingers cling to Liam’s shirt, a shiver vibrating through his limbs in the midst of the icy cold. 

“I’ve got you,” Liam adds softly, kissing Zayn’s temple. “You’re going to get through this, Zayn.”

A shaky sob is exhaled from Zayn’s lips as he brushes a nod into Liam’s neck. 

“I’ve got you,” Liam repeats, tightening his hold around Zayn’s torso. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you!  
> If you want to chat on Tumblr, you can find me [here](http://englandziam.tumblr.com/) :)


	6. Chapter 6

**EPILOGUE**

 

Liam is straddling Zayn’s waist, knees digging into the mattress either side of Zayn’s stomach as he sleeps. It is barely eight thirty, too early for Zayn to wake, but Liam enjoys listening to the chorus of starlings just beneath the window, and the murmur of the town outside of Zayn’s flat as barristers and shopkeepers prepare for the morning ahead. 

(Though he wouldn’t admit it, he is also paying close attention to each feature placed to Zayn’s complexion, to make up for the time lost when Zayn leaves for Bradford to see Doniya and Andy tomorrow morning). 

Liam smiles as a twitch catches at Zayn’s eyelids, his lashes softly trembling in his sleep. 

He thinks back to the first time they shared this very bed, all those years ago when Zayn was still human. A protective but gentle arm trapped around Zayn’s middle while they slept, after Louis had almost hurt Zayn. 

The night of their first kiss, where Liam had first felt the softness of Zayn’s lips, and had heard the quickening of his pulse as Liam’s fingers had slid around his middle. 

The memory of their first time having sex, shy and clumsy against silk sheets, exploring Zayn’s body with careful but hungry lips. 

His smile grows as he remembers the first ‘I love you’ Zayn had whispered against Liam’s skin, just outside of this very room, against the wall in the lounge while Liam had held Zayn in his arms. It feels the same every time Zayn says it now; a murmur of butterflies fluttering tiny wings against Liam’s ribcage, a heated electricity wiring Liam’s body as he realises that Zayn is all his. 

It seems so long ago, now; Zayn being human and Liam having to conceal every touch with a softer and gentler one, in fear of harming Zayn. Falling in love with a warm smile and deep, hazel eyes that held so many tortuous memories and emotions. 

Falling in love all over again every time he so much as looks at Zayn. 

So much has changed since then — trading Zayn’s human life for immortality, and reconnecting with Doniya after fourteen years of thinking she was dead. 

They had left Bradford after three weeks, with promises for Doniya to visit their home as soon and as often as possible. It hadn’t taken Liam long to realise that Doniya was a reflection of Zayn; the same shrills of soft laughter and a dimple placed into the same cheek when an infectious smile danced over her lips. A chin resting on Liam’s shoulder when they hugged, a hint of shyness sometimes woven into her tone — though caught between sudden bursts of confidence. 

There has been something brighter in Zayn’s eyes, an added fragment of happiness, now that Doniya is in his life; a part of the loss Zayn had suffered so many years now filled. 

Liam strokes a gentle hand along Zayn’s cheekbone, a fond smile at his lips.

“Marry me,” he whispers, voice barely audible beneath the gentle tone leaving his lips.

Zayn stirs in his sleep, murmuring something incoherent underneath his breath. His arms stretch out against the mattress, his head nuzzling into the pillow. 

His eyes are closed, but Liam knows he is awake.

“Marry me,” he repeats as his fingertips wander to Zayn’s jaw, and down towards his neck. 

Eyelids snap open and Zayn’s heartbeat quickens in his chest, confusion sweeping across his face.

“What?”

Liam bows his head, and their noses brush. 

“Marry me,” he says again, lips over Zayn’s. 

Zayn threads their fingers together against the mattress, an eyebrow raised — though there is an amused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Is our immortality not enough?” He questions, sinking his head into the pillow so that he can look up at Liam curiously. 

With their hands still held together, Liam uses his thumb to return to stroking soft touches over Zayn’s jaw. 

“I’m going to love you, forever,” Liam mumbles, momentarily distracted by feathery eyelashes that flutter every time Zayn blinks. “We should celebrate that.”

Zayn looks at him for a moment, a smile still stained to his lips — though his eyes are slightly hesitant. 

“Where is this coming from?”

Liam bites at his bottom lip, eyes narrowing as he stares down at Zayn. “Where is your _answer_?”

Zayn’s smile grows while he untangles their laced fingers to run his hands through Liam’s hair. 

“I’d never say no, Liam,” he murmurs, every touch so gentle over Liam’s scalp. “S’ just a bit unexpected, babe.”

Liam leans down to kiss Zayn softly, lips slowly brushing lingering touches over Zayn’s. 

“I know,” he mumbles, knuckles sweeping over Zayn’s neck. “I’m not going to lie to you and say that I’ve been considering this for a while, now. Or that I have a speech prepared…I just love you. And I want to love you forever, if you’ll let me.”

There is an undeniably fond expression clinging to Zayn’s features as he lifts his head to whisper more kisses over Liam’s mouth, with his hands bringing Liam’s head impossibly closer. They kiss slowly and softly, the tip of Zayn’s tongue teasing over Liam’s teeth as he grins. 

“Forever has always been inevitable,” he eventually mouths against Liam’s lips, his nose wrinkling as Liam slides the palms of his hands along Zayn’s ribs and down towards his waist. “If you thought that I will ever want anything other than you, for even a second, Liam — then you were wrong.”

Liam grins, continuing to brush soft kisses over Zayn’s lips and skin.

“S’ that a yes?” He asks, in between mapping out Zayn’s mouth like he is kissing him for the first time.

Zayn nudges a giggle into Liam’s mouth, his fingers sliding to the thick hair at the back of Liam’s head. 

“‘Course it’s a yes,” he says softly, fingertips clinging to Liam’s hair.

Liam sighs, breathing laughter against Zayn’s smile. He holds Zayn’s cheeks in the palms of his hands, more kisses gliding over soft lips. 

Zayn pulls away for a moment, eyes glistening with amusement. 

“No ring, Payne?” He teases with an eyebrow lifted, a grin still wide at his lips. 

Liam shakes his head fondly, noses brushing. 

“I’ll go to that jewellers in town and buy you the most expensive one in there,” he mumbles, the pads of his thumbs soothing over Zayn’s cheeks. 

Zayn snorts, sliding his toes along Liam’s ankles. 

“You could make me a ring out of tin foil and I’d be over the moon,” Zayn giggles.

He reaches up to brush a lingering kiss over Liam’s skin before he is pinning Liam against the mattress in a handful of seconds, looking rather pleased with himself as he adjusts his position so that he is sitting across Liam’s waist.

“You’re getting quicker,” Liam notes quietly, letting Zayn hold him down with fingers wrapped around his wrists — even though he could still easily break from his grasp. 

Zayn smirks, a dimple pushing into his skin. 

Liam slides up the mattress until he is sitting up against the headboard, reaching then for Zayn’s waist to pull him into his lap.

“Just so that you know,” Liam adds, as he curls his arms around Zayn’s middle, “If I’d thought about doing this for longer, I would’ve proposed to you somewhere romantic — like in Greece, on that boat that we hired when we were in Mykonos.”

Zayn smiles, a slight blush fading over his cheeks. 

“I would’ve hated that,” he mumbles, voice shy under Liam’s gaze.

Liam leans in, his lips pressing over Zayn’s for just a moment, before they brush along the stubble stained to Zayn’s jaw.

“Or in Rome, maybe, in the Pincio Gardens — where we spent all day in the sun,” Liam whispers, his mouth catching at Zayn’s earlobe. He smiles into Zayn’s skin upon feeling a sudden increase in his pulse, his eyelids fluttering closed as Liam’s lips trace the veins printed below the skin of his neck.

“What about on a gondola, in Venice, like when we watched that sunset —”

Zayn cuts Liam off by cupping his chin and guiding him closer, so that their lips are barely brushing.

“Or right here, in this bed,” he mutters, as his arms tangle around Liam’s neck, a smile at his lips. “Where we can spend the whole day, and where you can recite the speech you would’ve given me…over and over, all night, while I kiss every inch of you.”

Liam grins, his fingertips hovering over the vertebrates at the bottom of Zayn’s spine. 

“Sounds much better,” he whispers back, his eyes crinkled around the edges and his heart fluttering in his ribcage as he brushes his smile over Zayn’s. 

 

 

 

 

**END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Sorry for the cheesy final chapter, but I couldn't help myself. Thank you to anyone who left kudos or comments (or left me messages on tumblr) - it means more to me than you'll ever know...you all know that I pretty much suck at writing anything lengthy - so I'm glad that I made it this far and didn't abandon this story half way through! On a serious note, though, a massive thank you to everyone who has stuck by me through this, it may not seem like much but it's been hard work (mostly due to the crappy things in life that have prevented me from writing - but I got there in the end).  
> I'm not sure whether I'll be back to write more, we'll see how things go. <3 
> 
> Ellie x
> 
> p.s.
> 
> I've recently found out about a new site where you can give support to your favourite creators (writers, artists etc) by 'buying them a coffee' -- my page is [here](https://www.ko-fi.com/englandziam/) if anyone wanted to support me!


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